DA3 Lady in Distress
by Ameslan
Summary: This was the original conclusion to the series. A secret weapon is sent in for the rescue when the new flagship is sent to aid in a defection and is ambushed. As events unfold, everyone's lives are radically changed. A startling secret is revealed to all.


The short story _Dawn Of Hope _was originally written as the intro to _Lady In Distress_, the final installation of the trilogy. Due to some confusion on the date of publication, this was published as a separate installment since the full story was not completely through the editing stage. I have taken the liberty of recombining them here…

This story intended as the final installment of a trilogy. Beginning with _Patriot's Crisis_ and continuing with _Renegade's Blood_. All three can be read as one continuous story as elements from each spill over into the others.

star trek

the new breed

WORKING TITLE: MIDNIGHT OF DESPERATION

RIDING SILENT THUNDER PART I-

LADY IN DISTRESS

* * *

Following a mission which nearly ended in disaster, Jarrad and his crew embark on the opening of a new chapter of their lives together. In the hours up to and including the launch of the new flagship, this is a look inside the hearts of the officers as they come together one last time to usher in a new era of destiny. 

Dawn of Hope

(prequel/intro to Lady In Distress)

by Brian A.J. Moore

_Station Log; Stardate: 48995.4, Commodore Zach Dermon recording. Well, it's official now, the __TANELORN-A is completed and will be leaving the __SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN within the hour for her __shakedown cruise. I have been left in Command of the Spacedock with Captain O'Camp as my exec. The __RAVEN and the __MAELSTROM have concluded their mission on Na'anac and are due to be returning with our Ambassador in ten hours. I just wish I knew what was wrong with the Admiral, he seemed distant and moody. I would ask the Computer his location, but I have a feeling that he wants to be alone. And when Grand Admiral Jarrad wants to be left alone, you don't bother him. If you know what's good for you._

He stood there. He watched the shining planet below him. Not a planet really, rather it was the _Class-M_ moon of his adopted home. He was gazing out one of he many observation ports that were a common feature on the Spacedock. There was really nothing to see as the Spacedock maintained a geosynchronous orbit over its sister project, the _FLEET DEVELOPMENT CENTER_, to maintain the series of dedicated up- and down-links between the two. The emotions raging through him had to be dealt with and the serenity of the scene before him made an ideal catalyst.

The past several hours had been the most hectic he'd had in weeks. First off, the two most important women in his life had had major life experiences; the new _DAV TANELORN-A_ had been commissioned that morning with the Alliance Council of Elders unanimously granting him command and his love interest had been attacked by three enemy ships. Secondly, he had promoted Dermon and O'Camp as prelude to leaving them in command of the Spacedock. And thirdly, he had been reviewing the latest intelligence data confirming what reliable sources indicated, that the Romulans and Jerichans were increasing their interest in each other to the point where high government officials had met. Rumors hinted that the Tal Shiar had met with their Jerichan counterpart; the feared GSP, whose methods were so effective they had earned the respect of the Cardassian Obsidian Order.

Half an hour. It seemed like an eternity to wait, so he opted to check the infirmary to see if Gwenn had recovered from surgery yet. As he turned he nearly collided with Maarte, his temporary Na'anac Adviser, who had requested assignment to the station after he had saved her life two weeks ago. Although she was his age, she appeared to be considerably younger, which is why he didn't immediately notice her. As they exchanged greetings, he was reminded that Na'anacite females seemed to have a quality about themselves that most humanoid males found extremely distracting. This caused him, to his annoyance, to collide with the nearest piece of furniture as he excused himself. To her credit, Maarte ignored the stumble as she had become accustomed to the effect her presence had been having on the Spacedock's male population. As she fell into step next to him, she asked in her voice that only served to enhance the effect her physical presence had,

"Grand Admiral Jarrad, may I ask a question?" In reply, he nodded. "I apologize beforehand for my questions brazenness," she continued. "How does a man whose life's ambition is to fulfill the philosophy of '_Power thru Peace_' justify the Atomizer superweapon?" He paused a moment, deep in thought. When he spoke, his voice was as direct and sincere as his gaze,

"Having a Weapon, Maarte, makes you a Soldier; knowing when and how _to_ use it makes you a Warrior; knowing how and when _not_ to use it makes you a Diplomat–either way, the connection between person and weapon must be of Honor for the connection between weapon and person to be Glory."

"Essentially you are saying that it is not the _weapon_ that needs to be justified, rather the _possessor_," Maarte replied as they reached the infirmary. As they walked in, she started to speak until she noticed his face light up as he spotted the now awake Commander Scott. Maarte's presence was all but forgotten as he raced to Gwenn's bedside. He embraced her and as she returned the embrace he thanked God that the woman he intended to marry was still alive.

* * *

Captain Brian O'Camp looked at his new uniform in the mirror of his new office. He had only been wearing the distinctive Flag Officer's uniform for three hours now and the novelty was already beginning to wear off. The door chime sounded, startling him. He glanced at the chronometer on his desk. Ten minutes. Responding to the chime, O'Camp left his office and joined Dermon and T'Kay as they proceeded to the Ops Runabout pad.

* * *

As my shuttlepod gracefully arced toward my new home, the excited anticipation that pervaded my very being was pierced by a stab of regret from my mind and a stab of joyful pride from my heart as I got my first glimpse of her. I had purposely avoided looking at the exterior during her construction, attending to the interior only, so this '_first look_' took my breath away. My first impression was of witnessing the miracle of birth. My second was of controlled restraint, as if she was eagerly awaiting her chance to prove herself worthy of the name and legacy she had inherited; or perhaps it was my... 

"Beautiful." I heard myself murmur as I gazed at the vessel that was mine but not mine. The ship that was waiting for me for I had literally brought it from the ashes of a death I'd caused to the rebirth of the destiny of the legend I was once again facing.

"True, her form does still hold the same visual appeal; is that not why you wanted your flagship built on the same design concept?" My best friend and first officer, Captain Geoffrey Potter, replied in his usual clinically analytical tone. Turning to face me, he raised his customary right eyebrow as he gently prodded, "However...?". Suddenly, I felt very exposed. Like my anxieties were on display; fortunately, since Geoff was also playing pilot on this trip, I felt a wash of relief that he was the one to notice.

"She's not my _TANELORN_ Geoff! Even when the shipyard had the original practically rebuilt from scratch to save her from Starfleet's attempt to decommission her, she was still mine! This is... different. THAT ship only has the same name; because of the new internal advancements, her exterior is different enough to tell everyone she's not who she appears to be." As the feelings I had been keeping bottled up bubbled to the surface, I was startled by my own vehemence. With his usual imperturbability, Potter replied,

"Six months ago, when you destroyed the original, you also destroyed a part of yourself that dared to dream and confronted each challenge head on which I have known to be your hallmarks ever since you were my student in the Academy. Dartanion, you have been put in the unique position of bringing life out of death and now you have the responsibility of giving that new life it's own personality, character, and…soul. Those three come from the crew and are given by the Commanding Officer. You know that the ship has been tested in simulation as has the crew, you have been blessed with the best of both. Yet they have never been together, and you have been chosen to be that glue that holds them together. The ship and crew working together make the name what it is, it is the Captain and his personality, character, and soul that make them work right and you have plenty, my friend. One final thing; this is something that you must do for your own sake, let this new _TANELORN_ supplement the old in name only; she is only a complement to her predecessor. You are right, she is different, let her be who she is. I know you can do it, that's who you are. You are not the pencil-pushing desk jockey that you have been trying to portray. It's tearing you apart and everyone who cares about you has been watching you practically waste away and they don't like it. Myself especially." I mused over what had just been said as he docked the Shuttlepod, as the airlock opened, I smiled saying,

"You're probably right," as I followed him out, I patted him on the back while adding, "You know something? You know me too well ...that's scary."

One hour ago, the formal ceremonies had concluded for the launching of the new _DAV TANELORN NCC-9004-A_. The only formality left was for me to request and receive permission to board from my Chief of Security, Lieutenant Commander Marc Silver, who was waiting for us on the other side of the airlock. The reason for the delay was my granting the religious leader from the Drakmärian capitol of Sh'kr permission to say a blessing over various parts of the ship. Pr'gn had also been putting the time to good use by having an across-the-board level two diagnostic performed, with special attention given to the new Atomizer model B, the second Warp Core, and the third Warp Engine. Yesterday I had even joked to O'Camp to pray that my _space legs_ would return quickly since the Council had placed me on the desk job in appreciation for surviving the destruction of the previous model. I found my self wondering how this new setup would fare since the problems with the previous models had been presumably been worked out. The original _TANELORN_, one of 5 cruisers loaned out to the Starfleet when Drakmär IV had applied for membership into the Federation had a third Warp Drive attached to the Primary hull between the other two engines. This led to an imbalance in the Subspace field and serious problems arose. The resulting malfunctions led to the destruction of two of the cruisers. Even though the final cruiser had just finished construction, all of the remaining three were slated for decommissioning by the Starfleet. The Drakmärian Alliance was insulted by this knee-jerk reaction and recalled all its ships. During a routine patrol aboard the _TANELORN's_ sister ship, problems began to arise. In an act of improvisation by the Engineering team during a desperate situation, the third engine was shut down and the problems disappeared. The ships under construction were redesigned and the ships in serviced were rebuilt. Unfortunately, this also led to a change in the way ship's power was handled. When the Romulans attacked the Albanian Peace Conference, during which the treaty was signed that declared the Alliance's independence from the Federation and that peaceful relations would continue, the change in the power handling features caused the _Atomizer_ superweapon to misfire. I ordered the weapon overloaded in an effort to destroy it. Since then, a better way of handling the power had been discovered by Pr'gn's while working on the superior labs aboard the Spacedock. He had discovered the third engine could be reinstalled if attached to the saucer section. A second Warp Drive had to be installed in the Saucer as well but there was no active feed to the propulsive wave-guide converters. I knew this meant there was no way the extra engine could be used for warp travel. Instead, a major change was made to the way the _Atomizer_ was connected to the transporter system and this meant the entire EPS system was completely overhauled to integrate the new drive and system. Which meant there was now an experimental application in place capable of _MegaWarp_ speeds. On an intellectual level I knew all this. But still the artist in me had a hard time wrapping his _soul_ around it all…

* * *

The Bridge Turbolift doors opened to give the two Senior Officers access to their future. Silver entered first, announcing as he stepped aside, 

"Admiral on the Bridge!" The command staff stood and applauded as the two friends gazed at the new bridge. Jarrad stared in awe as he took it all in. Potter, in character as always, just raised his eyebrow once again and stated,

"Fascinating."

"Now there's the understatement of a lifetime," Jarrad murmured.

The Command Center was more spacious than the old one. The floor was covered with crimson carpet, with the railing separating the two deck levels being made from a highly-polished black wood. The three Command Chairs were covered with black leather, the Captain's differentiated by a slightly higher back, giving it a "_throne-like_" quality. In the center of the Bridge, embroidered into the carpet, was the image of an Alliance combadge. The features that usually graced every typical bridge were present; the layout reflected that of the Federation Galaxy-class, in whose honor it had been designed as a Drakmärian interpretation.

As Jarrad and Potter assumed their positions, the other half-dozen followed suit. From Tactical, Silver announced,

"Spacedock has gone to yellow alert."

"Engineering reports all systems go, we have been cleared to launch by the Dockmaster," chimed in Commander T'Sear from Communications. From Ops, the Gorn officer Lieutenant Ssloth reported,

"Ssupport umbilicalss have been disssconnected. We are independent of Sspacedock." Jarrad felt a sudden rush of excitement course through his body, from his heart outward. As the rush passed his shoulders, it released the weight of his anxieties as a thought came into his mind, unbidden- _THIS IS MY **TANELORN**, SHE IS ALIVE ONCE AGAIN_!

"Mister Conidi, Viewer on, forward view." The Main Viewscreen winked on to display the twin Bay Doors parting to allow them egress. Jarrad hesitated, almost afraid to say the next command, "engines rev..," he chuckled to himself as he remembered that the _TANELORN_ was facing outward, due to the fact that she had just been constructed. If he had completed the order, the _TANELORN_ would probably be remembered as the "_Flagship whose career was a bang-up job that got off with a bang_". Jarrad cleared his throat, sighed, and smiled, "Ahead full impulse, Mister Conidi." Lieutenant Commander Enzo Conidi turned and faced Jarrad, the surprise evident on his face despite the VISOR he wore, and asked,

"Uh, Sir. Can you do that?" Jarrad's smile widened into a grin,

"Of course, I'm the Admiral."

"Now there's the Jarrad we all know, welcome back Dartanion" Potter whispered.

"Impulse engines ahead, full impulse. Aye, Sir," Conidi said as he keyed in the appropriate commands. A moment later Ssloth reported,

"We are clear of _SSPACEDOCK CHARLESS DARWIN_, ssir."

"Several messages coming in Admiral," T'Sear announced as she toyed with her earpiece. "Dockmaster: _May the wind be at your back_, Commodore Dermon: _Clear skies and high flying_, Captain O'Camp: _Fare thee well and Godspeed_, and the last from Primus Dr'kn-Z: _Kashebi chi bopäwi_." Before Jarrad could respond, Silver chimed in,

"Runabout off our starboard bow, its the _LORAIN_. There are three occupants in the aft compartment." Curious, Jarrad ordered,

"Ops, lock on and magnify." There was a chirp, and the scene shifted from the starfield that was the _TANELORN's_ new home to an exterior viewport of the _LORAIN_.

Three figures stood there; O'Camp, hands clasped at chest level, was just completing a brief bow and as he looked up Jarrad saw a tear streaming down his cheek; Dermon merely stood at attention, his right hand raised in a classic salute; T'Kay, likewise saluted in her native Vulcan fashion.

Although his three comrades, two of them former crewmates, could not see him, he stood and returned the salute; nearly biting through his lower lip in an effort to fight back his own tears.

* * *

As they watched the _TANELORN_ speed away for her shakedown cruise, Commodore Zach Dermon turned to O'Camp and said, 

"I wish..."

"I know," O'Camp replied, his voice thick with emotion. As T'Kay maneuvered the _LORAIN_ back toward the Ops Runabout pad, the _SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN_ suddenly filled their vision and he concluded while making a sweeping gesture toward the facility, "But now..." Zach nodded while smiling dryly as Brian turned away. What Zach didn't catch was O'Camp frowning as he murmured "Unfortunately."

"She is in good hands, though" Dermon said as if trying to convince himself.

"The best," O'Camp concurred; looking out the port one last time, tears welled up in his eyes once again as he whispered, "Godspeed, Chief. _Godspeed_."

* * *

"_SPACESTATION EPSILON DRAKMÄR_ informs us we are beyond system perimeter and Commander Tak'ot-S sends: _May the enemy always stay **off your tail**_," T'Sear announced. The last three words were a time-honored reference to the ancient warning "**_On Our Tail_**" since the first Starships were only equipped with forward-facing weapons. Barely able to contain himself, Jarrad smiled, 

"Helm, the order is given, Warp Five." As Conidi complied, Potter seated himself at Science One and toyed with the Computer for a few minutes. As stars streaked past, Jarrad raised his voice and said,

"Bridge to Engineering. Status report, Pr'gn?"

"We are _green across the board_, sir. Ready when you are," returned the Chief Engineer's disembodied voice. Jarrad glanced at Potter and nodded. Potter tapped one last key and stated,

"_Warp Flex_ program loaded and on-line."

In moments, forces of nature and physics would be working together in ways Jarrad could only understand the rudimentaries of would be propelling the _TANELORN_ along subspace. He knew that a neutrino field would be projected about the ship, a tachyon beam would be directed from the ship, the tachyon beam would then be used to enhance the Transporter, and finally the neutrino field would then be transported along the tachyon beam using the second M/ARA unit to augment and maintain the Warp Field and to balance broad spectrum particle matrix integrity. Jarrad hated feeling ignorant, but this one was beyond him to such an extent that having it explained to him only gave him a headache. Besides, the scientists and engineers involved couldn't even agree why it worked.

"Mister Conidi," Jarrad ordered, "take us to _Spectrawarp_ plus three."

"Course and heading, sir?" Startled by the question, Jarrad suddenly remembered that the ship could not maneuver under this new design. Smiling, Conidi continued,

"Where do you want the _TANELORN_ …**_To Boldly Tread_**?" Chuckling at the use of the Flagship's motto, Jarrad leaned forward and raised his hands, palms upwards,

"Pick a star, Mister Conidi...and chase it!"

Deadpan, Potter interjected, while making a vague sweeping motion with his arm and finishing with a flick of his wrist, "Dartanion, I believe that the technical term is: _Thataway, engage_!" With that command, the new _TANELORN_ opened the first chapter of her own legend.

THE BEGINNING……

* * *

While on her shakedown cruise, the new Flagship is diverted to run a dangerous errand of mercy. When it turns out to be an ambush, a secret weapon is brought into service for the rescue. In the process, several officers, especially Dermon realize that a destiny coming to fruition may not always be a dream come true! 

LADY IN DISTRESS

ALTERNATE TITLE: THE _TANELORN_ GAMBIT

(Includes the introduction of the subplot: SWAN SONG—concept by the late Zach Durkin)

_Captain's Log; Stardate: 48996.2. The __TANELORN-A is now 8 1/2 hours into her shakedown cruise. We are due to rendezvous with the __LARRGN-Z in thirty minutes when we reach Cromuria. Captain Potter has informed me that the '__Warp Flex' programming software is performing above and beyond designated parameters; however, Pr'gn informs me that he is having to perform a systems-wide diagnostic on the __Spectrawarp hardware to determine why the system's efficiency is below par while its integrity has maintained to the point where he feels he could double the designed stress levels and still be safe._

_Station Log; Stardate: 48996.2, Commodore Zach Dermon recording. The __TANELORN-A is now 8 1/2 hours into her shakedown cruise. She is scheduled to be engaging the LARRGN-Z in the vicinity of Cromuria for a surprise '__Peak Performance' test of battle simulation ability. The __RAVEN and the __MAELSTROM are due to be arriving within the next couple hours after having some moderate damage repaired at __GALLIFREY STATION. One disturbing bit of information that Captain O'Camp has informed me of is that a series of relay sensor net 'glitches' has appeared. This may have been caused by the tampering that occurred when the __Delphite III Relay Monitoring Station was invaded last year. If even one section partially fails, it could mean trouble for the Federation and Klingons and disaster for the Alliance. I personally have no desire to take part in a modern-day __Krizu._

"Commodore, we are reading what appears to be a high warp signature approaching the Spacedock from the direction of Romulan territory" O'Camp's sudden appearance on Dermon's comm panel so surprised the _SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN's_ new Commanding Officer that he forgot he could simply reply from his Command Console. The fact was that he had been so engrossed in familiarizing himself with the senior Command Files and Policies for the past four hours that the surprise left him completely disoriented. Due to his disorientation, Dermon leaped out of his chair and charged out of his new office. Forgetting the office was now at the end of the upper level's circular walkway, he nearly careened headlong over its railing. He recovered quickly, trying to cover his mistake by making it appear as though he intended all along to simply lean against the railing as he asked...hoping nobody would notice that he was grasping at straws,

"What do you mean '_appears_'?" Puzzled, O'Camp slowly shifted his gaze from the Operations Command Systems Auxiliary Control Center to Dermon, glanced back and shrugged as he made eye contact with Lieutenant Sipal, the Vulcan manning the Primary Science Station. The scientist took this as her cue to reply to the Commodore's question,

"The use of the word '_appears_' is inaccurate, sir. There is a definite high warp signature in the position indicated by the Captain. The reason that word was applied was due to the fact that the vessel responsible for the signature is traveling through the Shadowlands just outside scanner range of _GALLIFREY STATION_. There is also the possibility that said vessel in question may be cloaked." Dermon sighed and rubbed his fatigued eyes as he paused to think. Moments later, he addressed Mainframe,

"Specialist, how many ships do we have available that are able to handle this type of situation? Only include the ships that can be launched in time to intercept an appreciable distance from us." The android cocked his bald, metallic head slightly and his yellow eyes began moving as though they were reading something that no one else could see as he processed the request. Dermon put the time to good use by steeling himself for the Specialist's response; which he anticipated to be the usual long-winded and overly technical sort. The Commodore was almost surprised when his comrade replied,

"None, sir". Now it was Dermon's turn to look puzzled. From the edge in his friend's voice, O'Camp could tell it was more annoyance than anything else,

"_NONE!_ Out of the dozen or so ships currently docked, _not one _can be dispatched to handle this situation? This is a Spacedock, not a day care for Federation washouts, we should have ships ready around the clock to be prepared for any contingency. This is unacceptable at best." Thoroughly chastened, O'Camp merely nodded that he knew Dermon was correct. Just then, Yeoman Asimov stepped out of the Commodore's office and, in an effort to alleviate the tension, asked,

"Where are the _RAVEN_ and the _MAELSTROM_? How soon are they due in?" Lieutenant Sipal replied while glancing at her monitor,

"They are one hour and forty minutes distant, which puts them 35 minutes ahead of the intruder"

"Our Ambassador is on board the _RAVEN_, so divert the _MAELSTROM_ and send half of the returning Corvettes for support". O'Camp ordered and Lieutenant Commander Karatall, the Klingon/Human mix who was manning the Primary Operations Station, complied with his usual efficiency. Dermon then sighed heavily as he reentered his office to complete Yeoman Asimov's briefing. In his gruff voice, Karatall addressed the Spacedock's First Officer,

"Captain the fault is mine for the lack of preparation and I do apologize"

"Then by all means take whatever means necessary to rectify the situation". O'Camp replied with a tight smile. The new Captain was not normally this edgy or moody, but he had been on duty for 10 hours now. He had been pulling 1 1/2 shifts ever since the incident on Na'anac over 2 weeks ago. One small consolation was that the nightmares had stopped.

* * *

"All hands, all stations, prepare for Atomizer test fire simulation for diagnostic evaluation in 10 seconds" Captain Potter announced into the air from the center seat. As soon as the command was out of his mouth, he nearly bolted out of his seat as Jarrad suddenly charged out of his ready room almost shouting,

"Belay that order! Yellow alert! Activate cloaking device! Helm, proceed at full impulse to 012 mark 327. Ops, prepare main sensor array for Shadowland penetration! As everyone rushed to fulfill their assigned tasks, Counselor Troi asked Jarrad as he sat down,

"I take it that your conversation with Captain McCollin was not as pleasant as you had intended"

"We were interrupted by an explosion and then communications from the _LARRGN-Z_ went dead", replied a concerned Grand Admiral.

"Sshadowland penetration in twenty ssecondss, ssir," SSloth announced from ops and Jarrad nodded his reply to the Gorn as the alien continued, "thiss will render our cloaking device usselesss".

"Transfer power from cloak to shields. Helm, lay in a course for the _LARRGN-Z's_ last known coordinates, remaining on mapped course as long as possible" Potter ordered. The Shadowlands were tricky to navigate at best, so the Alliance routinely dispatched mapping teams to patrol potential hot spots.

As the _TANELORN_ entered the Shadowlands, Troi noticed that the tension level on the bridge rose slightly until Jarrad said to her, loud enough for the rest to hear,

"I am glad I have the best ship and crew in the fleet or this could get get messy"

Down in Engineering, Pr'gn noticed that as soon as the _TANELORN_ entered the Shadowlands, EPS efficiency dropped by 1/10 of 1. He took this as his cue to institute a level 3 diagnostic. This elicited a chorus of groans, sighs, and rolled eyes from his staff as they complied.

Back up on the bridge, Lieutenant Commander Silver had just noticed a glitch in the TA/T/TS and when he accessed the _telltale_, he discovered the system was in Simulation Mode. He was just about to inform the Admiral of this when the first shot struck.

"_BATTLESTATIONS! RED ALERT!_" Jarrad literally shouted in his surprise. Making every effort to compose himself, he asked over the blaring alert klaxon,

"Ops, what was that? Never mind...Tactical, why wasn't I warned? Helm, bring us hard about to confront aggressor". Silver never got a chance to reply as Pr'gn's voice piped in over the comm,

"Bridge, this is Engineering…what exactly is going on? I've got major malfunctions across the board yet Damage Control Teams can't find any damage to control!"

"Sir, we are receiving a message from our attacker '_Surrender or be destroyed_' although their Transponder ID indicates the vessel to be the _LARRGN-Z_, they have identified themselves as the _DAV PEAK PERFORMANCE_", T'Sear cut in from Communications.

"Wonderful! What next? A guest appearance on this mission from the Grand Nagus? How about a side trip to the Romulan homeworld just for good measure!", Pr'gn retorted sarcastically to the Alpha Centaurian's announcement.

"The phaser blast came from an unusually dense ionization cloud, which is why we didn't detect them. Our shields are down to 68, phasers are out, moderate to heavy damage to decks 23 through 26, photons and impulse engines are out on starboard, EPS and ODN Dorsal Transfer Connections have completely failed. Sir, even for _simulated_ damage, they knew where to hit us", an agitated Silver reported from a flickering Tactical station.

"Jarrad to Pr'gn", no response.

"Bridge to Engineering, please respond!" Jarrad frowned.

"Technician Cs'ay here sir, Commander Pr'gn just entered a Jeffries' tube muttering something about that '_every time somebody on the bridge gets into trouble, he not only has to save the day but clean up the mess as well, and now he has to do it in simulation_'. He specifically stated that '_Engineers have all the guts and none of the glory'_' ", a nervously excited young Drakmärian voice replied. Jarrad answered calmly while putting a smile in his voice,

"Thank you Mister Cs'ay, will you please inform Pr'gn that we need whatever he can give us in...", Jarrad glanced at Silver whose expression indicated that he had given up not trying to be agitated with the malfunctioning Tactical station. The burly Chief of Security threw up his hands in exasperation, shrugged and growled, "45 seconds", to a bemused Jarrad, "...45 seconds as our attacker is beginning its next run".

"Yes sir, the Chief says...", the Technician was cut off by his Commander's distant hollow shout, "What he says is— '_fine, whatever; you can have your precious 40 seconds_!' Now, please let me get back to saving my lady —again! Just keep them off my engines! By the way, whose bright idea was this Wargame?". From the Helm, Conidi glanced at Jarrad with a mischievous smile and Jarrad chuckled as the two replied in unison, "O'Camp", there was a loud _crash_ over the comlink and Pr'gn suddenly came over his own communicator,

"_WHAT! _I'll kill him! Right after I finish this. How _dare_ he order someone to harm my engines!" and he closed the line.

Pr'gn beat his own time by 10 seconds.

The ensuing battle was furious yet brief. The _LARRGN-Z_ not only had the advantage of a more seasoned crew but also that of surprise. The _TANELORN_, being the Flagship, was crewed by the _élite_ of the Alliance and had the more powerful design. The _LARRGN-Z_ was winning hands down until Captain McCollin applied his infamous '_McCollin gambit_' of scattering an Antimatter Spread while rotating different Shield layers at different and opposing frequencies. Jarrad was anticipating the unique maneuver and even hoping for it as Potter had devised a defense against it. The maneuver gave Pr'gn a headache as firing a tractor beam through the Antimatter Spread caused a massive localized Electromagnetic Polarization Effect. This meant that in order to disable the _LARRGN-Z_, the _TANELORN_ had to run cold. The battle simply went to the ship that could get back on-line fastest. The _LARRGN-Z's_ crew had the advantage of familiarity, but the _TANELORN_ had the advantage of a better designed system. The latter vessel also had a Chief Engineer who had an annoying tendency to fall in love with any machine he saw plus ensuring his staff had that machine working at better than absolute perfection. Especially now since he had always had a friendly competition with the other ship's Captain who was a fellow Engineer The result was that the _LARRGN-Z's_ crew was slightly faster while the _TANELORN's_ had significantly less work. When all was said and done, although it was close, the winner was clear.

_D.A.V. TANELORN NCC 9004-A_

As soon as the computer confirmation was given, Jarrad was informed that Captain McCollin wished to speak with him. Jarrad informed T'Sear that he would take the call in his Ready Room, into which he entered with an air of dignity. He exited five minutes later grinning ear to ear with a slight spring in his step.

* * *

Lieutenant Jesùs Salvador did a final checkup on all his systems. There were five minutes to go until the intruder got to their position and nobody knew what to expect. The destroyer _MAELSTROM_ was in front of and below the five ROGUES. The starship was emitting an inverse-polarity wide-angle variable-range gravitic beacon from its Main Deflector grid. All the Hispanic pilot knew was that once the cloaked vessel penetrated the field effect, it generated an ambient energy signature that could be '_seen_' by their tactical scanners. As soon as the intruder was spotted, all six vessels were to open fire, with the intention of simply disabling it.

Four minutes.

Three minutes.

Two minutes.

One minute.

At thirty seconds, Sa'don-F, who was sitting at Ops, mumbled something under his breath. Salvador was so focused on the task at hand he missed it, so when Tannor-K responded "Amen to that, dude" he followed suit. A moment later, Ensign Tannor announced from the overhead tactical enclosure,

"Warp signature penetrating gravitic beacon, target lock enabled!" Ensign Sa'don interrupted,

"Warp signature is gone, sir! We have a decloaking vessel that is approaching us at full impulse; it's a Romulan Scout ship!" The Hispanic Lieutenant felt his heart sink into his stomach. Through his communications earset, he heard the order to move to intercept.

In a moment, the Destroyer and her 5 escorts were within attack range of the Romulan vessel.

"Scout is running cold, only life-support is active to maintain for sole occupant" Sa'don announced as the Alliance craft surrounded the intruder.

Minutes later, the _MAELSTROM_ had a security detail ready to board the scout. As soon as the destroyer dropped its shields, another Romulan vessel decloaked. This one was a Warbird and before the _MAELSTROM_ could get its shields fully restored, the D'daridex opened fire.

The Destroyer never had a chance. The disruptor barrage completely disabled the Star Corps starship. ROGUE _KESTREL_ Blue II was the closest to the attacker, facing away from it, and was also a recipient of the attack. The three man fighter never knew what hit it and never got a chance to find out.

Salvador quickly shook off the shock that was welling up within him and organized the remaining ROGUEs to defend the Scout,

"_KESTREL_ Red II form on me, Blue Lead and Blue III, fall in two by two attack formation", he followed up by mumbling, "I never would have guessed that I would one day be risking my life to come to the rescue of a Romulan...Sa'don, watch that Scout ship, I am in no mood to be blindsided". The Warbird was easily more powerful than the comparatively tiny Corvettes, yet their crews were disciplined to know how to handle any foe, regardless of size. The four fighters literally danced their way around the larger vessel, quickly overwhelming it by sheer annoyance factor. It could be likened to a swarm of mosquitoes attacking a sweat-soaked man on a hot summer's day. The mêlée only lasted a couple minutes until the Warbird broke off and limped away.

* * *

Commodore Dermon was just about to go off duty when the _RAVEN_ returned. He frowned as this meant that he now had to escort Maarte to meet the new Ambassador. The Spacedock's Commanding Officer found himself fervently hoping, even wishing, that their Ambassador was not another female. With Pyl's recent death, he found the Na'anacite females' natural innocent sensual charm to be _quite_ annoying. He needn't have worried about another female. It was not. Stiiv, it turned out was even a distant cousin of Maarte's and they immediately began jabbering away in their melodious native tongue. A relieved Dermon gave her permission to give the new Ambassador a tour of the facility.

Now that Dermon was officially off duty, he intended to do some brushing up from the Romulan tech database. His memory of his Academy extension class wouldn't do to give that Scout a good once over. The captured ship was still a couple hours away and Dermon wanted to get a jump on the diagnostic as soon as it arrived. He was sure O'Camp would want to be informed, but the Engineer wanted his Exec to get some sleep first. That was the same reason he was delaying informing Sickbay of the fate of the two Alliance vessels' crews. He was purposely waiting until Dr. Aulius came on duty, as he knew Vitro hated paperwork, especially death certificates.

* * *

It had been exactly 15 minutes since Dermon's call had interrupted Jarrad's victory celebration. That had been all the time that had been needed to transfer all nonessential personnel from the _TANELORN_ of the _LARRGN-Z_. Captain McCollin had suggested that he trade his more seasoned crew with Admiral Jarrad's crew which had been away for nearly a year. Jarrad gave it serious thought but decided against it, opting instead to having several of the _LARRGN-Z's_ senior officers transfer over as a relief backup crew. Five minutes later, they were clear of the Shadowlands and Jarrad received a call from his former Chief Engineer, 

"She's beautiful D, and I wish I were going with you. In all honesty, I can't think of anyone I would rather be beaten by. She's earning her own place in that name, so take care of her. Good luck and Godspeed".

As soon as the channel closed, Jarrad tapped his desk's comm panel,

"Potter, lay in a course 270, mark 004, maximum warp; and have the senior staff meet in 10 minutes".

After the Conference Room had been filled, Jarrad spoke,

"As evidenced by the generous smirk on Pr'gn's face, congratulations on a job well done. You are truly the finest crew in the fleet," he paused for effect as he took a deep breath in through his nose. He then slowly exhaled through pursed lips while stroking his beard and gazing at his friends; after a pause, he continued, "now that title will be put to the test. Your training and dedication will be challenged on this mission like never before." Pr'gn interrupted cockily, his grin leaving little room for the rest of his features. Still insufferably pleased with himself after _his_ ship beat _the_ most famous Engineer in the Alliance, he chuckled,

"So...what's the rub, bub?" Potter nearly fell out of his seat while Larr and Silver nearly lost it. Leaning on the table and making direct steely-eyed in-your-face contact with the adopted Drakmärian, Jarrad literally growled,

"The rub is, _Lieutenant _Commander," If the young Admiral's words or demeanor had any effect on the Engineer, it didn't show, "this mission will take us into the heart of Romulan territory!" That took the wind out of Pr'gn's sails. His smile fell so fast that Jarrad nearly expected to hear a crash. In the corner of his eye, Jarrad noticed that both Larr's and J'lorra's red, pupil less eyes suddenly seemed to blaze with fury in response to the passions evoked by the mention of their people's sworn enemy.

For the next 15 minutes, Jarrad apprised them of the situation. Of how the _MAELSTROM_ had been destroyed following the intrusion of the Scout ship, how the surprised escorts had subdued a superior opponent, to how the sole occupant of the scout, a Romulan, had informed Dermon that Legate Torm Khanpri was on ch'Havran and desired to defect. The Legate's name was familiar to all present as he had used his membership in the Cardassian Central Command to to come to the _TANELORN's_ aid 1 1/2 years ago. Khanpri had had the Obsidian Order unwittingly mislead the Tal Shiar in their attempt to help the Jerichans in a plot to destroy the _TANELORN_. The Jerichans had been outwitted and the Alliance's flagship had barely gotten away with its hull intact mere moments before the Romulans had showed thanks to Khanpri's warning. The Legate had disappeared soon after. Jarrad concluded by asking his Number One,

"With this new design, how soon can we be there?" Potter glanced quizzically at Pr'gn who stated,

"With our voluntary Engineering restriction of Warp 5, the '_SpectraWarp_' system can introduce a potential +10 Factor levels. This means she can theoretically do the equivalent of Warp 15". This revelation elicited a chorus of astonished gasps from the assembled officers, after consulting the conference table's workstation and doing some quick mental calculations, Geoff replied matter-of-factly,

"20 hours, 17 minutes"

"Let's do it", Jarrad directed with his trademark as he dismissed the meeting. As the senior staff were spilling out of the room, Pr'gn muttered to Silver,

"That will teach me not to make certain off-hand comments"

"We can only hope", Mark sighed. The _TANELORN's_ Chief Engineer then turned and addressed his First Officer,

"Sir, we need to talk"

"Affirmative", came the pale Canadian's acknowledgment.

After they had all left, the Counselor was the only one remaining in the room with Dartanion. The full-blooded Betazoid asked in her rich accent,

"You wished to speak with me?". He knew that the only reason she knew that was that it was her job. Although telepaths made him edgy, he had found her an invaluable asset. D stood and walked to the room's massive windows. The view _gave new meaning to the term starfleet_, he mused. He then sauntered back over to his seat and plopped down, after kicking up his feet he answered while nodding toward the door,

"Not so much for myself as for them." With her easygoing smile, she nodded understandingly.

Fifteen minutes later, as they were leaving the room, Jarrad noticed that Potter had transferred the Science station to the Environmental position. He was now seated next to Pr'gn and both of them were fussing with their controls. The Admiral watched for a few moments, bemusedly listening to them mutter to themselves and each other,

"Is there a problem, gentlemen?" Potter opened his mouth to reply, but Pr'gn managed to respond first,

"We are now cruising at +4.5, I will now take us to +8, see what happens? We wind with a harmonic frequency friction signature as subspace Doppler drag increases. Which simply means we are getting an energy exchange from the two opposing Warp Fields. This has the same effect as looking at two people standing next to each other through a lens that is out of focus. You can tell that there are two people, yet they sort of blend together."

"What's our present status, can anything be done?" queried a concerned Jarrad.

"We have to retune the subspace phase harmonics within the warp field configuration somehow. We can maintain +9 at 75 efficiency, yet the exponential value of the cochrane level may degrade that efficiency. Due to the fact that this new theory is unaffected by incremental values, our safest speed is +8.5", Pr'gn informed him. Just to their left, Potter murmured,

"Fascinating." In response, Pr'gn turned and replied,

"Thank you."

"Not you, Commander, the computer." Potter replied typically deadpan while keeping his gaze fixed on his monitor. Jarrad asked,

"What is it?"

"It would appear that I have inadvertently discovered the source of our problem. Our warp drive is designed as a quantum state delivery propulsion system and we have..." At this point, Pr'gn interrupted Potter while slapping himself on the forehead,

"Configured all the Transporter Emitter Arrays for _molecular_ resolution! I don't believe I, of all people, actually missed something so obvious! Hey, now wait just one minute! Now you're saying it's _my_ fault?" Potter replied nonchalantly,

"Who am I to argue with such words of wisdom?" Jarrad took this as his cue to place a hand on either man's shoulder and interject into their unique rapport,

"Gentlemen, gentlemen please, what can be done to rectify this situation?"

"The most obvious choice would be to use a Montgomery Amplifier..." Potter began until Pr'gn interjected heatedly but politely,

"Sir, that would be impossible, we would need a radically different spaceframe design concept for that to be feasible for saturation effect."

"I am well aware of that, Commander, and I was about to apprise the Admiral of that fact. We must find some way of modifying the technology we have rather than applying an external remedy for now." Suddenly, Pr'gn snapped his fingers and asked,

"We're using a Passive Quantum Distortion Field Limiter so that the opposing Warp Field won't leave a '_subspace scuff mark_' on our shields, right?" Potter opened his mouth to reply, but then thought better of it and and merely nodded as the Engineer continued, "We can run a direct EPS tap to the Limiter, hook up a subspace field inverter for polarity compatibility, and use the Saucer Deflectors as a projector for the assembly. We will still have the static defocusing, but it will be so compressed as to be of negligible effect."

"The computer indicates that, in theory, this will cause a broad-based variable frequency flux resonance within the Primary Deflector which could adversely affect our tachyon beam", Potter reported. Jarrad held his hands to his head, closed his eyes, and shook his head as he groaned,

"Why do I get the feeling that I should have known better than to ask?" The two comrades had a running competition to try to out do each other when it came to the technical aspects of their respective fields. Jarrad suspected that this was merely their way of working together and Pr'gn's next comment left him feeling vindicated,

"Captain Potter, I am going to need you to reprogram a protocol analyzer and manager according to your diagnostics so we can clearly define and monitor matrix configuration" The one part Jarrad actually understood was about the Montgomery Amplifier. The unique piece of technology was a Subspace Field Amplifier which used gravity fields to operate on an inverse proportionate level. This meant the _greater_ the field, the less _efficient_ the effect. He'd read that something called the _Mannheim Effect_, in which time is affected by gravity fields, meant that Warp Engines had to be installed below the Amplifier or they neutralize each other. The Shipyard's hull designs were reflecting this new fact of life and Jarrad knew the next incarnation of the _TANELORN_ would as well

_

* * *

Captain's Log; Stardate: 48996.9. We are now 9 1/2 hours into this most unusual mission. The __TANELORN has entered Romulan territory—all systems green…with the possible exception of my nerves. It looks like this __TANELORN's career is maintaining the status quo as far as mission type is concerned. I am a bit frustrated right now as Pr'gn informs me that if he and Potter continue to effect design upgrades at this rate, the design will not be able to maintain them all. They estimate she will be able to remain current for about a year before a significant retrofit is necessary. Her shakedown cruise and she's obsolete and to top it all off, it's her own fault._

I had been awakened at my request when the _TANELORN_ had reached the Romulan border so that I could give the order myself. I had had difficulty getting back to sleep, seeing as how I had just committed my comrades to their most desperate hour. Seeing as how it was only '_oh-dark 30_', I had opted for a little tour. Remembering that a Marine had once told me what the '_oh-dark_' meant, I chuckled. It was adapted from recruits being wakened and grumbling that "_I didn't know that 0430 came twice a day._" Noticing a crewman glance furtively at me as I laughed, I made my way to TAN-Foreward, figuring it to be empty. It was not. Lieutenant Commander Conidi was there, his VISOR staring at what lay ahead of us. I glanced at his prosthesis and wondered what the shimmering, shining star field looked like to him as it sped past us on our date with destiny. I quietly walked up next to him and asked,

"So what's it look like?" He paused for a moment before answering. When he did, his voice was firm yet there was a hint of awe and concern,

"Beautifully horrifying; all these conflicting energies working in unison because we are making them do it. One thing out of place and we'd be sitting here twiddling our thumbs." I knew what he meant as that had been one of my reasons for joining Security in the Academy. Right now I would rather be somewhere doing something. Instead, I was giving the orders for it to be happening all around me. This thought caused me to frown as I commented,

"I understand implicitly, my friend. I myself sometimes wonder why we always have to force ourselves to go so far so fast. I mean, can't we sometimes stop to admire what has brought us here? For crying out loud; if we don't respect what we've done, it may come back to haunt us". Conidi chewed on my words for a moment and when he replied, I was almost sure he was in his famous _Preacher_ mode. Not that I minded,

"With all due respect, spoken like a true Security Officer, sir. If the Wright brothers had listened to the naysayers and those who insisted on playing it safe, where would we be? I don't know about you, but I would probably be sitting somewhere in Italy, jealously dreaming about the birds flying above me which I can no longer see. As a Scientist and a Man of Faith, I firmly believe that man should daily strive to discover what his God-given potential really is." As his words sunk in, I realized the wisdom contained in them. It had never been in my nature to play it safe. Which meant that I usually resorted to unorthodox measures, like fighting, to ensure the safety of others. The brass always later informed me of their disapproval with my success, generally in the form of punitive measures.

Now that I was in command, I had to play it looser. I now was more than simply responsible for myself and what I had secured and what I had to secure it from. I now had to concern myself with the health, welfare, and well-being of those entrusted to my care and who entrusted me with theirs. Because of this, I had had mellow out considerably in the past decade. I now had to rely on the world of resources at my disposal. It wasn't always appreciated, but it was always necessary. I understood his point and its validity, yet I still remained steadfast to my choice. I had to. In an effort to assure my comrade that there was no offense taken and that I respected his position, I patted him on the shoulder as I smiled,

"Amen, my friend"

* * *

_Station Log; Stardate: 48996.8. It has been 9 hours since I informed the Admiral of the situation on the Romulan home world. According to Lt. Sipal's calculations, the __TANELORN should be crossing the border any time now. On the home front; as a compromise to all concerned parties, I have ordered that the Romulan Scout remain outside the Spacedock's Drydock while our teams go over it. At the Romulan Ambassador's request, we will be returning the Scout as soon as the teams conclude their survey. I cannot help the feeling that something more is afoot as so many diverse dramas unfold on my first day of Command._

"So how do things look? Do we have a gold mine or scrap metal?" Dermon asked O'Camp as the engineer peered over his X.O.'s shoulder. The former Intelligence Agent was seated at the Scout's version of the engineering Master System's Display.

"Both, I have good _and _bad news for you. The bad is that the pilot is a P'linza spy. The good is that the driver for their warp core is the only thing that is completely shot. It seems that our fellow pilot was running everything on manual override. He was also running a 50 nanosecond delay on the input to hardware phase differential, which is why the forced artificial quantum singularity is depleted." The Computer Operations Manager replied, his gaze never wavering from the monitor. Dermon furrowed his brow as he asked,

"Let me guess, the good news explains the bad. But that doesn't explain why you had me place those transporter pattern enhancers around that aft compartment. If you don't mind, what is in that compartment?" In response, O'Camp merely pointed at the monitor in front of him. Dermon felt a vague sense of familiarity at the image he was now staring at. It took him nearly a full minute to recognize it. When he did, the full impact of what it represented caused the blood to drain from his face. "This looks just like the computer core aboard the _KIITRAS_, except that this one doesn't have a crashed processor—You're planning on switching the two via the Transporter!…can you do that? I mean, will it work?" Dermon's eyes were the size of his combadge as he considered the implications of what they were about to do. O'Camp answered by tapping his communicator as he murmured dryly,

"Guess there's only one way to find out…O'Camp to Spacedock computer, run programs O'Camp 1, 2, 3, 3a, 4, 5, 5a and 5b." In response to the question forming on Dermon's face, the monitor flickered and went dead. Instead, he asked,

"So now that we've pulled off the Intelligence Coup of the week, what do we do for an encore?"

"Undo the damage that's already been done." O'Camp replied in a grim whisper as he stood. As he reached for his communicator to be beamed home, a puzzled Dermon remarked,

"Undo the damage…what?" his jaw dropped as he suddenly realized, "The _TANELORN_ is heading into a trap! Captain, I want you and Commodore Hersh to go have a talk with our benefactor, if he has _any_ idea of what is going on, I want to know about it!"

Fifteen minutes later, Hersh and O'Camp were at the door to the cabin assigned to the P'linza spy. They had both started out wanting to play this situation as professionally diplomatic as possible. But his involvement in the situation with the _TANELORN_ was making their suspicions wear thin on their mood, completely changing their attitude—for the worse. O'Camp stood in front of the door, a couple feet back with Hersh to one side, phaser drawn. The instant after O'Camp ordered the computer to automatically open the cabin's door, everything that could possibly go wrong did.

As the doors snapped open, the spy jumped up from the desk and spun to face them, hurling a fist-sized disk at them as he did. O'Camp instinctively reacted by using a forward snap kick to deflect the object into the ceiling where it went off. The concussive pulse of the nullifier grenade's primer activating flattened O'Camp. The field effect rendered the Captain's muscles flaccid, incapacitating him.

Since Hersh had been shielded from the pulse by the Romulan's body, the alien slammed into him. The two then tumbled into a heap at the opposite wall. The nullifier field was beginning to dissipate as it reached them and the adopted Nortanian prince chose the wrong moment to open his eyes. The last thing Hersh saw before his vision kicked out was the Romulan drawing a knife as he removed a device from his arm. It took Hersh only an instant to recognize the unit as a positronic inhibitor, which he knew would limit the grenade's effect on the wearer. Ignoring the panic that was welling up within him, Hersh somersaulted up into a flying roundhouse. Literally flying blind, Hersh followed up with a spinning side thrust kick. Both kicks connected solid. The blinded warrior realized he could not keep this up for too much longer as he fired off a reverse sweeping back fist. The punch produced less than the desired results as it merely grazed his opponent.

The Romulan took advantage of the opening by slashing downward with the knife. As Hersh felt the chilling shock of the blade biting into his back, he now had to quell the fear that began to rage like a wildfire up his spine and through his heart. At a loss for anything else to try, he resorted to a standard exotic Nortanian fake-out. The tactic worked, but his injury took most of the power out of the punch.

O'Camp heard his friend's call for help, but found his muscles barely able to respond. Realizing he was lying on his back with his right arm across his chest, he was struck with sudden inspiration. With supreme effort, he reached out with his index finger and tapped his communicator. He then tried to order the lights extinguished but found his tongue unresponsive. He knew he could not ask for help, so Brian opted to let the computer do it for him.

He screamed.

The Romulan's knife was heading for Hersh's heart when O'Camp's blood-curdling shriek pierced the air, throwing off his aim. The Commodore's communicator saved his life. Using the impetus of the blow to spin himself away from his antagonist, Hersh was planning on using the spin to generate the power to retaliate. Unfortunately, when he shifted his weight to his left leg, it caused a stab of pain to shoot through his injury. The surprise caused him to stumble into the nearest doorjamb and bounce off, landing flat on the floor. Hersh felt something on the floor underneath him. Realizing it was his phaser, he grabbed it and fired in the direction of the Romulan's rapidly approaching footfalls.

* * *

Two hours later, O'Camp was heading to the station's infirmary to put into motion a plan he and Dermon had been working on for the past 1 1/2 hours. On his way, he made a quick detour to the chapel. It was empty save one person, Commodore Antoné Hersh. Noting his friend's pensive expression, Brian gently set his PADD down and eased into his white Clerical Cloak. He opened his mouth to start a conversation, but Hersh beat him to it,

"I was 19 when I had my first kill. I was visiting my uncle with one of my family's guards as part of my training. My third night there, one of my uncle's enemies organized an assault on his home. We somehow managed to repel the first attack; but the second broke through. My guard was right next to me when he went down. I froze. All my training, practice, and experience went out the window and left me standing there like some living bulls-eye just asking to get shot. Nobody seemed to even notice me until I reached toward my guard to assess his injuries. That was when the desk we had been hiding behind exploded. I quickly grabbed my guard's blaster and fired in the vague direction of the silhouetted figure that had shot him. I looked up in time to see the figure disintegrate from my shot. Just over a year later, my parents were visiting me and we decided to go visit the local marketplace. We had been there an hour when another attempt was made, this time on my father. My mother's enthusiasm about buying something from one of the vendors made him zig when a rooftop assassin wanted him to zag. The first blast only missed him by mere centimeters. The guards did a free-for-all pileup on my dad to protect him. One of them grabbed me, which put the guard in the line of fire right as the assassin opened up with a rapid-fire volley. One of the shots hit the guard in the arm and knocked us both down. In an effort to frustrate the attacker's efforts, I grabbed the guard's bolt-caster rifle and unloaded it at the rooftop. When there were no more shots, I thought I had succeeded in scaring the attacker off. A news story later reported evidence indicated that a Royal Guard had been forced to neutralize the assassin by shooting her in the back. This Romulan is my third kill, but…"

O'Camp spent the next half hour ministering to his friend's wounded soul. As the two officers left the Chapel, the A.R.C.H. Senior Chaplain confided to his superior officer,

"I am glad that I will be attending your Retirement next week rather than officiating your Funeral. Oh, and thanks." Hersh chuckled as he replied,

"Good preaching, Rev."

Ten minutes later, O'Camp strode into the infirmary followed by Admiral MacFarlane. As they entered, Vitro joined them from his office. While O'Camp handed Vitro the PADD, MacFarlane addressed Commander Scott,

"Hello cousin, how are you feeling?"

"Hi Denny, I'm fine. How is the GALLOWAY coming along?"

"The A.E.C. has done as much work as it can. Since the technical upgrades on your K't'slk drive are classified, Captain Tanara has gone to Utopia Planitia to obtain a complete new propulsion system. She's due back in a week." Gwenn groaned and rolled her eyes. Vitro reached over and pressed a hypospray against her neck. Nurse Barco wheeled a Surgical Cart into position as O'Camp got on the Surgical Table next to Scott's. As the Irishman lay down, MacFarlane sighed,

"Captain if this plan works, I am glad it's you who has to deal with her when she wakes up." Vitro applied the same hypo to O'Camp's neck and as the drug started to take effect, he replied thickly,

"If you want to thank me, you can take care of that last item for me; if you pl–"

After the surgery was complete, O'Camp piloted a Wayfarer—the Alliance's version of the Federation Runabout—to the next phase of the plan. Dermon accompanied him to perform some technical checkups.

"Well, now I see why you had Vitro put your team in stasis tubes. I was able to modify this Cargo Transporter for quantum resolution, yet this unit's Heisenberg compensators need to be reinitialized." The Spacedock's Commander then tapped a key and the Transporter began filling the room with the stasis tubes. Dermon concluded by saying, "It's all yours now, good luck but I hope you don't need it." He then sketched a two-fingered salute as he entered the airlock.

O'Camp turned and stepped up to the console. He stared at his reflection in the blank monitor for a moment. It was also the reflection of a man he hadn't seen in over a decade. With the prosthetics on, his reflection left an eerie feeling in his gut along with a sense of déjà vu.

"_KIITRAS computer, recognize voice imprint of Tal Shiar Major Khariyyg_." He barked in fluent Havrannsu-dialect Romulan. This was one of the most dangerous missions he had ever been on and he knew right where he now stood. The point of no return.

* * *

"E.T.A. to ch'Havran, Mr. Ssloth?" Jarrad asked, his voice tight but even. The only hint of the strain he was experiencing was the slight tension tension lines at the corners of his eyes and lips. 

"We will enter the ssysstem in sseven minutess, ssixteen ssecondss, ssir." The Gorn hissed. Jarrad keyed the _all-call_ toggle on the **INTERCOM** menu of the miniature workstation built into his Command Chair's right arm,

"All hands, all stations, this is Admiral Jarrad. In approximately seven minutes, we will in position to implement our mission. Yesterday, we proved in simulation that we are the finest crew in the fleet. Today we are going to prove it for real. Our ship is the best, our technology the latest, and our equipment and training is the most advanced available. We all know the details of this mission, so as long we all do our best to stick to the plan, it should go smoothly. Thank you for your time. Let's do it."

Five minutes later, Lieutenant Commander Conidi yielded the conn to Midshipman Kierns, one of the officers that had transferred from the _LARRGN-Z_ to assist on this mission. Conidi then took up position at the Bridge's Engineering substation. Implementing the plan, Conidi deactivated the _Spectrawarp_ hardware and upgrades. This was accomplished by putting the _Warp Flex_ program on standby and taking the new regulating matrix off-line. Kierns then did her part by dropping the _TANELORN_ out of warp. She then took the Drakmärian Alliance Star Corps's Flagship to full impulse as it entered the Romulan system…her family home before her mother's defection. Katherine knew that since her maternal kin were from ch'Rhihan, there were only two chances that she would encounter any of them—slim and none. Silver announced from Tactical,

"EPS power tap for active sensors has been redirected to phaser banks. With this much firepower, I'd really like to see some Romulan be stupid enough to…oops, sorry, Mr. Kierns." As he winced his apology, she replied dryly,

"I don't think my insurance plan covers bruised ego, but I think I'll survive somehow, sir." Jarrad made a choking sound and Potter arched an eyebrow as he glanced at the Grand Fleet Admiral. Dartanion had a hand covering his face in an effort to contain the sudden fit of laughter. Following suit, the rest of the bridge crew indulged themselves in the moment of mirth. The levity in the atmosphere quickly dissipated as Potter glanced at the viewscreen and mentally calculated,

"One minute until planetfall, sir." Jarrad's attention was instantly and completely arrested by the striking spectacle before him. The twin homeworlds shared a binary orbit. That meant that as they orbited the Romulan sun, they also orbited each other. The resulting panorama was breathtakingly surreal. With an effort, Jarrad shook off the awe that was overwhelming him as Midshipman Kierns reported,

"Standard orbit established." From the Communications console, T'Sear began to tap keys as she toyed with her earpiece and frowned. Finally, in frustration, she yanked out the earpiece, sighed and hissed through clenched teeth,

"Sir, we have a problem. The communications grid is picking up the Transponder's signature but there is a field saturation effect in the area. This is creating a multiple source resonance ghosting effect." Jarrad stood and turned to face Potter at Science 1. The lanky First Officer intoned,

"I postulate from the data available that the Legate attempted a core memory dump and overloaded the Subspace Field Generator on his computer's CPU in the process."

"Why do I get a re-e-e-a-a-l-l-ly bad feeling about this!" Jarrad sighed, hazarding a glance at the Counselor. With his countenance a unique combination of a pained smile and a lopsided wince, D addressed ops, "Mr. Ssloth, is there any way to rectify this predicament?" After checking his station, the Gorn replied,

"Yess ssir, it iss ssimply a matter of uss hailing the Transsponder and then esstablisshing a Transsporter lock on any feedback ssourcce within the disstortion field."

Something about what was currently going on in this situation clicked in the back of Jarrad's mind. As he thought about it, the memory from over a decade ago flooded back: _He had only been a Midshipman then. His team had been accidentally been beamed aboard the most advanced Romulan Warbird of the time. They had subsequently stopped the crew of the _KIITRAS_ from initiating a preemptive first strike against Starfleet—the deranged Commander had actually achieved orbit around the Federation homeworld! The cloak had failed along with several other systems when Jarrad had inadvertently crashed the starship's computer. Earth had subsequently scrambled every ship available. The first ship to show was the _USS TYR_. Jarrad had vainly tried contacting them using his communicator. He had later been informed that the Frigate's Tactical Officer had recommended the D'daridex torpedoed while they still had the chance. The First Officer, then Commander Tyrek, a former Starfleet Marine and ever the '_grunt_', recommended boarding the _KIITRAS_ with a Marine contingent to take advantage of the situation. This had gone fine until they had reached the computer core. Jarrad, as nervously excited as he was gung-ho, heard the sound of their approach and took a potshot at them. His shot was rewarded by a fusillade of phaser rifle blasts on his position. As he dove for cover, he had shouted,_

_"Hey, it was nothing personal!" The Marines had then stormed his position. Jarrad had then found himself promptly arrested and beamed over to the _USS EXCELSIOR_. Six hours later, Commander Tyrek had escorted him to the _EXCELSIOR's_ shuttlebay in shackles. He had glimpsed out a viewport and estimated nearly 20 starships in earth's orbit. He had readily recognized the more familiar lines of the GALAXY, EXCELSIOR, and NEBULA classes. There were several other classes of Heavy Cruisers, Battleships, and Destroyers as well. _Even now, Jarrad swallowed hard and shuddered at the memory. _Back then, Tyrek had glanced disapprovingly at the midshipman and remarked,_

_"See what you managed to accomplish?" Incensed, Jarrad had stormed while indicating the Romulan entering the other shuttle,_

_"Me! What about him?" The Commander had shrugged and shaken his head as he frowned,_

_"That is Major Khariyyg, the Tal Shiar Political Officer for the _KIITRAS_. As a Diplomatic courtesy, we are turning him to the custody of the Romulan Embassy. You, on the other hand, are being transferred to the Penal Facility on New Alcatraz for holding." Infuriated, Jarrad had screamed,_

_"YOU WORTHLESS ROMULAN, I'LL KILL YOU IF IT'S THE LAST THING I DO!" He was then stunned into submission._

Back in the present, the memory had only lasted a moment so nobody had noticed. Now he know why his call for help had been ignored. As he thought about the memory, something familiar nagged at him about the Romulan Major, but the feeling was a fleeting one.

"Helm, take us as low as safely possible. Communications, then hail the device. Tactical, drop shields, have Transporter room 2 beam him up, and then raise shields. Finally, helm, I want us out of here." Jarrad concluded by snapping his fingers on the word '_out_'. Noting the anticipatory stares directed at him, the _TANELORN's_ C.O. chuckled,

"_Let's do it_. Tell Gavarr I will be there to greet our friend the Legate. Mr. Potter, you have the Bridge." He then entered the turbolift and identified his destination as deck 6. Several minutes later, Kierns announced that the _TANELORN_ was as low as they could safely go. Any lower and the atmospheric penetration would compromise the integrity of their cloaking device. T'Sear took this as her cue to replace her earpiece as she initiated standard hail. Seconds later, the Alpha Centaurian murmured,

"No response on wide band, I don't even think it's getting the interference. Attempting narrow band, tight gain." Potter nodded curtly and turned to face Silver,

"Be ready on shields, Lieutenant Commander." As Silver replied '_aye, sir_', T'Sear simultaneously announced that she had '_got it_' when Murphy's Law went into full effect. It started by Ssloth's reporting,

"Ssir, there iss a highly charged, magnetic phenomenon that appearss to be a quantum filament ssomewhere nearby as it iss affecting our ssenssorss." Before Potter could ask how close it was, they all found out as it collided with the _TANELORN_. Main power went out immediately, and the Ops panel blew up in Ssloth's face. The explosion that would have instantly killed most humanoids merely knocked the naturally thick-skinned Gorn out. Cold.

* * *

Jarrad had just entered deck and was on his way to the Transporter when the Carson family stepped out of a lab he was passing. Bonnie, his Chief of Staff, was carrying her daughter, Daria. Upon spotting her Godfather, the 5 year old reached for him and gleefully squealed, 

"Unca Dart!" Dartanion blushed and grinned widely. He reached for the girl as her mother handed her over. The transfer was almost complete when the impact occurred. Daria was in free-fall for a moment as Jarrad was slammed against the wall in front of him, he bounced off and landed on his side. He rolled onto his back just in time to catch Daria with his stomach. Jarrad saw stars as he coughed air back into his lungs. As the lighting yielded to the red emergency lights, Daria giggled,

"Gee, Unca Dart, that was fun. Can we do that again?" Still gasping for breath, Jarrad groaned,

"No"

* * *

_She was beautiful. Her long, supple hair flowed in the gentle breeze. She was softly singing a classic folk tune. Folk songs weren't his favorite, but this was hers. Since she was singing it for his benefit, he was reveling in every moment. Her voice gave him the mental image of a waterfall of honey winding its way into his soul. A definite bonus. He smiled as she gently ran a finger along his jawline. He felt the charge of joy this gave him all the way down in his toes. The toes that suddenly wanted to melt into the beach they were sitting on. He sighed and smiled; had it only been two days since they had announced their engagement? Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed her lean her head up to kiss him. He adjusted his position so that he could return the gesture of affection. As he turned to face the woman he loved, the scene shifted grotesquely. He was still looking at her face_—but it was a warped, broken, caricature of a visage that had been reduced to a bloody pulp. T'Kemp had been betrayed by a ruthless double agent who had had his own agenda. Fearing that one of his contacts might be compromised, the agent had fabricated evidence and linked it to her. The Tal Shiar had responded by attempting to torture the information out of her. At the time, he'd been powerless to do anything about the situation. Now he was more than ready, willing, and able to do what was necessary to come to the aid of those he cared about. The fury and grief burning down his cheeks in hot tears only served to strengthen his resolve. He also knew that, in the Intelligence Community, beating your opponent to the punch made it all worth it. That was the whole point. Now it was his turn and turnabout was fair play in this case. Acknowledging this aloud, O'Camp announced,

"Payback time." Then he went to revive his crew.

* * *

Lieutenant Jesùs Salvador strutted into the main drydock access of the _SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN_. The young Hispanic pilot glanced casually at the dock status roster in the center of the lobby and noted that the _RAVEN_ was assigned to bay 2. Not even breaking stride, he continued into the appropriate tunnel. Entering the personnel access for the _RAVEN_, he nearly walked into the unyielding airlock door. He tried a manual entry using his personal access code. The only response he got was from the access panel, which flashed the message: **ACCESS DENIED**. He smiled and sighed as he tapped his communicator,

"Salvador to Security." A rumbling voice replied over the comlink,

"Karatall here, sir."

"Uh, señor? I am trying to reach security for the _RAVEN_. I am due to report in 5 minutes and I cannot seem to get on board. If you could be of assistance, I would be obliged."

"_IF_! Please hold." A second later, Salvador found himself enveloped in a transporter beam. He ended up on a Transporter pad as expected. But not where he expected. Rather than ending up on his ship, he was surprised to find himself somewhere within the Spacedock Facility itself. The Klingon on the lower level acknowledged his arrival with a curt nod, obviously Karatall. Across from him were 2 Drakmärians. The first was a male wearing a phaser who was monitoring the other, a strikingly beautiful female. He noticed something unusual about her and realized it was her eyes. Rather than the standard pupilless red they appeared to be…violet? She gave him an appraising look and it wasn't until her eyebrows gave a bemused flirtatious twitch that he realized he was staring. Another attractive young female wearing yeoman's insignia approached him and smiled,

"Welcome to Ops Lieutenant Salvador. I am Yeoman Asimov, please follow me."

"It would be my pleasure." His reply elicited a snicker from purple eyes. Asimov led him to an office at the end of the raised walkway he was on. The office belonged to Commodore Dermon, whom Salvador immediately recognized from the incident that had disabled the _GOSHAWK_ 2 weeks ago. The Engineer gestured his fellow Pilot toward a chair,

"Come in, Lieutenant, and take a seat." Salvador complied as Asimov took her place next to the massive desk. Dermon continued, "Congratulations on a job well done with the Scout ship yesterday. Unfortunately, the _MAELSTROM_ is a complete loss. However, that is not the reason that I have called you here. What with the increased threat from the Jerichans, we are currently in process of building up this system's defenses. Our Corvette fighter contingent has finally been completed. All our Squadrons have been assigned and staffed. Yet it wasn't until today that we determined the right choice for Senior Departmental Command Officer. That officer will hold the position of Crew Chief for _Gold_ Squadron Team Lead, the Command Squadron for this Facility. That choice, Lieutenant Commander Jesùs Salvador, is you. Congratulations and good luck, these are your orders." Dermon stood and handed the new Commander a data chip. The normally incorrigible Guatemalan found himself at a loss for words for the first time in his life. As Asimov attached his new insignia to his flight suit, the stunned Salvador finally found his voice,

"¡Gloría Diós!"

* * *

Back in his quarters, Zach finally allowed himself to dwell on the moodiness he was experiencing. Part of it was due to the senseless murder of Pyl Elle, who had died saving his life two weeks ago. Another part was that he was an Engineer rather than an Administrator, and here he was in command of the Alliance Central Facility. Yet another part was that Vitro had begun to take him off his medications. One of which had the side-effect of a stimulant. Lastly, he blamed himself as being part of the reason the _TANELORN_ was in this mess. Right now he wished he could simply _do_ something—that is…aside from paperwork. He was _almost_ looking forward to Commodore Hersh's soon retirement. He could then be reassigned to _STARBASE NORTANIA_ as that sector's Alliance Command Extension. That way he could have the Alliance Engineering Corp oversee the Aslan shipyards. Then he could at least feel useful rather than simply have his career look good on paper. One positive note about his new position was that it legitimized his expediting the _CYGNUS_ project. He had had the Engineering Support ship designated his command flagship.

* * *

"Transfer ops to science 1"

"Unable to comply, primary ODN trunk failure"

"Committing manual phaser power transfer to RCS thrusters"

"What!"

"Shields and cloak have failed, we are vulnerable to planetary defenses"

"Do it"

"We will achieve polar orbit in 30 seconds"

For the _TANELORN's_ bridge crew, it was the longest 1/2 minute they had ever experienced.

* * *

Down in Engineering, Pr'gn was in the middle of his worst nightmare. All around him, panels were blowing out as their respective conduits overloaded. The 3 Technicians on duty came running to his aid, but he stopped them by shouting,

"I got this! Get to the primary cutoffs and reinitialize the Waveguide Converters!" As they scattered, the stocky Engineer hazarded a glance at the Master Situation Monitor on the opposite wall. His heart sank as he realized that they were only moments away from an EPS cascade system failure. Thinking fast, he threw safety and his training to the wind. He kicked out the nearest undamaged duty console repeater panel. Behind it, now exposed, were the three types of power taps for the Primary Transfer Conduits. At a glance he determined that the tertiary was off-line, the secondary was overloading, and the primary had already failed somewhere up the line. He disconnected the linkages for the primary and secondary, set the tap for the secondary against the access for the primary, and took a deep breath. The two types did not have mating linkages, so Pr'gn had to pray that the plasma primer would fuse them together. If it held, he would have saved his domain once again. If, on the other hand, he was off by even an ångstrom, he would only know for the instant before he was ionized. A full minute later, Pr'gn exhaled. As he realized he was still alive, the breath turned into a sigh of relief. He quickly went to the Master Systems Display '_pool table_' workstation and ascertained that the primary had failed within the magnetic bypass conditioner element. Grabbing a spanner and an inverse low-frequency capacitor, he managed to effect temporary repairs. He was also able to increase and enrich plasma flow to bare minimum efficiency standards. All in less than 2 minutes.

That was when the real trouble started. As Pr'gn slid himself out form under the access panel, there was a shimmer of sound and light in his peripheral vision. Snapping himself into a Dri-di-ki battle stance, the adopted Drakmärian only gave his first target time to materialize. He sent the Romulan sailing into the M/ARA pit with a kick to the back. The engineer charged into the work area and took out the next intruder with a flying head shot. Using the momentum of his kick, he somersaulted through the air and slid across the '_pool table_'. As he reached the far end, he grabbed a hold of the workstation and flipped into a double thrust kick, which incapacitated his third and fourth opponents. Hearing more coming, he grabbed a laser torch and reset the controls for high gain, tight beam. Without a power pack, this would give him 5 shots at a range of 3 feet. Pr'gn ducked behind the Master Systems Display and waited until the footfalls came close enough. He then jumped up and fired on the 3 Romulans he was now confronting. He darted around the table and made a beeline for his office to retrieve his phaser. As he was passing the last Romulan he'd shot, the Centurion grabbed his leg, sending him sprawling. The wounded alien was retrieving his disruptor as 6 others began to materialize. In an act of desperate improvisation, he opted for an uncharacteristic bluff. He opened the M/ARA unit's trilithium housing. Out of his work belt came the spanner. He separated the control module from the actuator, and dropped the actuator into the housing. Pr'gn quickly set the module for display diagnostic. When the controls began to flash, he held the unit aloft and said,

"If I release this unit, it will send a magnetic dampening pulse into the chamber and cause a Core Breach. Now drop your weapons!" One of the intruders got cocky and sneered,

"You won't do that, you'll be destroying your own ship!"

"True, but it will be going out _my_ way. Plus, I will also have the satisfaction of taking you with me. Drop 'em; _NOW_!" They complied. Pr'gn retrieved the nearest disruptor as he chuckled,

"I am glad you guys are gullible, this thing's battery was just about dead." He then stunned the six Romulans using their own weapon. Insufferably pleased with himself, he strutted into his office saying,

"I am a big, bad, bold, rough and tough, lean, mean, fightin' machine! Even at a dozen-to-1 odds and them having the advantage of surprise, I _still_ win! _YES_! But then, why am I acting so surprised? They tried to take _my_ Engineering, so _my_ victory was inevitable! I mean, how dumb can you be and still breathe? _HEH_!" Because of the dim red emergency lighting, the Engineer failed to notice that one of the aliens was still barely conscious. Before he finally succumbed to his injuries, he managed to get off a shot at Pr'gn's back. Pr'gn turned the corner to enter his office right as the trigger was pulled, so the blast only grazed the seat of his pants.

* * *

Right after the emergency lights came on, Jarrad and the Carsons heard the sounds of phaser fire. Diving back into his lab, the Communications Science Officer called to his daughter,

"Daria, come to daddy." A moment later, as Jarrad's Deltan/Betazoid Chief of Staff was helping him to his feet, her husband reappeared at the door with phasers and tricorders for both. Bonnie gave her spouse a kiss as Jarrad asked,

"I don't want to know where these came from, do I?" The lanky black NCO merely shook his head apologetically while glancing nervously at his wife.

"I taught him all he knows." She said in his defense. _Why don't I find that too reassuring_, thought Jarrad. Glancing at his tricorder, he announced,

"We have a half dozen intruders 50 meters ahead of us." He then started toward them, phaser at the ready. Behind him, Bonnie Carson giggled,

"Just like you Security types to insist on a frontal assault. Sir, if I may, I'd like to suggest that we employ small-unit tactics and use this maintenance crawl space to get behind them." Jarrad shrugged and said,

"By all means Ma'am, after you." The auburn-haired 80-something nimbly slid on all fours into the open hatch. Jarrad scrambled in behind her and did his best to keep up. He was almost glad he wasn't making eye contact with her, since her irises were a light cream color. In normal light her irises faded into her corneas and in the emergency lighting the effect was eerie.

Several minutes later, Jarrad was nearly winded when they reached their destination. Both of them spared only a few seconds to catch their breath. While Jarrad consulted his tricorder, his former teacher opened the hatch using her phaser. He recalled back to when he had had the fun-loving former Marine as an Officer's Candidate Class instructor. The gorgeous, personable alien's course had been the wildest 6 weeks of his life. As one classmate had put it, '_The most grueling class of my life made worth it all by her smile_'. Prompting Jarrad to agree by quipping, exhausted, '_and by the fact that we're all in love with her and willing to do anything to prove it_'. Another classmate, who was sprawled across his bed, had wakened long enough to add, '_and the fact that she knows it makes it all that much worse_'. The three had then laughed themselves to sleep.

"Our 6 friends have been joined by 3 more, but none are Cardassian." Jarrad noted from the tricorder. Carson winked at him at replied,

"That should just about even the odds." They both took up positions behind a hallway ceiling support arch while Jarrad rolled his eyes at his Chief of Staff's comment. It was no surprise that she and Larrgn-Z got along so well, they thought just alike.

They had barely gotten hidden when the intruders appeared. Jarrad got off 2 shots to Carson's 3. Of course, their different styles were the reason. Jarrad was not as acquainted with phaser tactics and had a tendency to aim, fire, wait until the shot hit, duck and start over. Carson, on the other hand, aimed and fired, reacquiring targets in rapid fire succession. When the first 5 went down, the rest scattered. One of Jarrad's targets was only wounded and began to crawl to cover. One of his Romulan comrades peered around the corner, saw the injured alien, and shot him. Infuriated, the 2 Alliance officers cut the murderer down. For the next 5 minutes, the 2 opposing forces merely exchanged fire, neither able to gain any ground on the other. When one team tried to rush the other's position, the other team quickly pinned them down. Several times, the _TANELORN_ team tried to call for help, but their communicators were useless. Frustrated, Jarrad sighed as another shot came too close for comfort,

"Well, Mrs. Super Marine, got any more ideas?" Carson shrugged as she smiled,

"Got any favorite prayers handy?" He knew that her question was prompted by his former class nickname: '_P.K._'. It was short for '_Preacher's Kid_' and was prompted by the fact that his late father was a Senior Chaplain for _JERUSALEM SPACE STATION #1_. The station was the Headquarters for the Federation Missionary Corps and was even nicknamed the '_JeS(u)S Starbase_'. At the memory of his beloved father, Jarrad winced as he replied,

"Right about now, I'd try anything—Lord, put their lights out!" Almost as a joking afterthought, he made the sign of the Cross with the hand that was holding the tricorder. Right as he finished, the emergency lights flickered and went out. A surprised Jarrad cried out,

"Wait a minute! I wanted the _Romulan's_ lights put out, not the hallway's—I guess this is what I get for falling asleep one too many times during O'Camp's sermons…but I promise I'll never do it again!" In the darkness, he heard Carson reply dryly,

"Oh please; and I'll be having a snowball fight with the devil tomorrow, too." From down the hall came the sounds of a scuffle followed by 3 distinct thuds. There was a low guttural snarl followed by the lights coming back on. The two officers immediately noticed and trained their weapons on the lone figure standing over one of the Romulan bodies. Lieutenant Commander Vincent Samson looked at them, frowned, turned his leonine figure around and walked back down the hallway as he growled,

"You are welcome sirs."

* * *

A day and a half.

That's how long Lieutenant Commander Gortan Atras had estimated until the _CYGNUS_ was ready. She was being prepped for final systems analysis and independent support technology on load. IST was merely a fancy way of saying shuttles, torpedoes etc.

"Finally." Dermon muttered. He knew he shouldn't be so impatient about the project. It had been his own order that had prompted Karatall to reassign over half the _CYGNUS_ team to those of the _BISMARK_, _NARNIA_, _KRIEGGOTT_, and _CHIEFTAIN_. As an apology to O'Camp, he had also left a team working on the _ARCHANGEL_ Chaplaincy Flagship/Courier project. Dermon had felt it necessary to augment the fleet with at least a Juggernaut, a Dreadnought, a Battleship, and a Destroyer respectively. There were also 5 Corvette Squadrons and 6 Wayfarers as well. It was just that when the teams had been reassigned yesterday, the _CYGNUS_ had been only 5 hours from completion. She had been a dream of his since the Academy, Commanding her was the only reason he had reluctantly gone to Command School before graduating. Mercifully, his Instructor had agreed to informally tutor the young Engineer on an independent pass/fail basis. This was done after it was quickly ascertained that his performance was putting his class standing in jeopardy.

* * *

Commander Guinevere Scott awoke completely disoriented. It wasn't until she had crawled out of the stasis tube that she realized something was wrong. She shook her head to clear it and was immediately sorry, it felt at least 10 feet thick. Reflexively, her hands flew to her temples and felt something unfamiliar. As her head began to clear, she noticed that her surroundings were completely unfamiliar and she froze. Before her fingers had a further chance to explore whatever was attached to her forehead, she found herself enveloped in a transporter beam. When the transporter concluded its cycle, she found herself in a dimly lit office. She was standing in front of a desk whose owner had his back to her. He turned around and the scene took a second to set in, even then she half believed she was hallucinating. The figure was Romulan, wearing a Military uniform, decorated with the insignia of a Tal Shiar Major! The bubble of disbelief that pervaded her very being burst when he spoke,

"_Jolan Tru_, Commander." As he spoke, her mind cleared suddenly with the realization that she knew this man! She couldn't remember where from, But it was definitely Khariyyg! Upon recognizing him, due to her passionate distaste for Romulans, she completely lost her legendary temper. She launched herself across the desk, aiming for his throat. He deftly sidestepped, shifted his weight, and using her own momentum spun her into a nearby seat. He looked down at her and said,

"Admiral MacFarlane was right, you are cranky when you first wake up."

"_O'CAMP_!" The look of surprised shock on her face was so sudden and so absolute that he just had to laugh. Glancing around with a look of curious suspicion, she stammered,

"What, where, how,…who?" On the last word, she tentatively pointed a finger at him, an accusing glare in her eyes. He briefly explained the situation with the _TANELORN_, prompting her to ask,

"But that doesn't explain my presence, or these…costumes." Soberly, the Irish Chaplain stared out a view port at something a million miles away and said,

"What I about to tell you doesn't go beyond this room. When you first met me, I was working for Starfleet Headquarters Intelligence Operations in Data Retrieval as Khariyyg. I was the primary contact for an Ambassadorial aide named T'Kemp. Yes, she was T'Kay's sister. Due to her death, I discovered that the Tal Shiar had infiltrated the Romulan Underground. From there, it gets pretty complicated, but suffice it to say that the Klingon government came up with a plan. This involved making it appear as though the Federation had organized an assassination attempt on Ambassador Spock. That was the true purpose of the operation called Hegh QIp that you participated in. Everything went smoothly until the Warbird I was on intercepted your relief vessel, a Courier Shuttle from the _HOOD_. Due to that, Starfleet captured the Warbird that we are now aboard. If it hadn't, you would have met Jarrad a year earlier. Unfortunately, that also meant that your team didn't have any backup. Which left you fending for yourself when the Romulan military arrived before the Klingon recovery ship. A lot of good people were lost on that mission, most of them from your team. A couple weeks later, we met again for the first time. Your recovery ship answered a distress call from the Station my team was being debriefed on. We had been ambushed and my entire team was dead. During a struggle, I had been shot in the eye with a disruptor and left for dead. Fortunately, it was my own weapon and I had left it set for heavy stun. I don't know how much you'd been told up to now, but you now know the whole story. I chose you, Dogh, T'Kay, and a few others for your familiarization with the Romulan aspect of things." While Scott and O'Camp were friends, they did not always get along too well. His headstrong arrogance and her fiery temperament did not always mix. That was why he wasn't too surprised by it when she angrily got in his face,

"You brought my crew into this wild idea of yours too? Without even consulting me first! Who cut the orders? What gives you the right to think you can up and concoct some wild plan to play _knight in shining armor_ to some Cardassian and put _my_ crew at risk in the process! Need I remind you that 3 of them tried to destroy my ship not even a week ago? This is _extremely_ inconsiderate…SIR!" After she had concluded her tirade, O'Camp replied evenly but with equal fervor,

"Well _Commander_, you are right about one thing, it is my idea. However, it was Dermon who approved it and MacFarlane and Vitro who authorized it. As far as _your_ orders, an informal request for aid was brought to the attention of Earth's Ambassador Westlake. Since our Treaty stipulates that he maintain an Admiral's rank, _he_ did the orders. Finally, since the Flagship may be in serious trouble, I think the cause far outweighs the potential risk. Especially since it is commanded by my best friend, who is someone you care about as well. With the Good Lord as my witness, I know he'd do it for us—he deserves no less!" After considering his response, she relented. He concluded by saying, "We have 3 hours until we reach our destination, so please revive your crew and inform them of the situation. I would see to it personally, but I believe that Dogh would be more receptive to you." With her trademark smile, she eased her Reubenesque figure out of the chair and headed for the door. Halfway there, she turned and asked,

"If you don't mind my asking, how high are you cleared?" He replied,

"Actually I do, as you aren't cleared high enough to know. But anyway—Most Secret:Secure Interest—Eyes Only; classification point, Omega 100; level 1A. Which in certain circles is the highest you can go. If it's any consolation, your rating of Very Secret:Priority Interest; point Epsilon 12; level 4B is 2 to 3 ratings higher than Jarrad's."

* * *

Working together, T'Sear and Conidi had managed to restore rudimentary internal communications. They had accomplished this by routing everything through the Bridge's Emergency Subsystems Trunk. They had connected one of the dedicated Computer Optical Subprocessors to the Primary Subspace Antenna Grid. Since the Main Computer was off-line, the subprocessor's redundant short-range Radio Frequency link provided an adequate backup. They soon discovered their only problem was that all comm traffic had to be routed through the Bridge's Communication Station. Conidi also had to reprogram the subspace transceiver assemblies on 6 tricorders to create a subspace amplifier. The RF link did not have sufficient strength to handle the subspace transmissions and the overload reduced the signal strength to _nil_, which concerned T'Sear. Half an hour after the _TANELORN_ had been disabled, a senior staff conference was in progress. Nurse Dominick Barco reported first,

"Out of our current 50 man crew, 32 have been injured, 8 seriously." This prompted Silver to pipe in,

"Including Larr's pride." Everyone glanced over to where the Drakmärian Prince was pouting. When the _TANELORN_ had been hit, he'd been in TAN-Foreward about to take a drink. The impact had caused his head to snap down as he was bringing the mug to his lips, causing the 2 to collide and rendering him unconscious. Somehow during the fall he'd also managed to break his arm. 30 Romulans had come on board and he'd missed out on all the fun. The usually wisecracking Larrgn-Z mumbled,

"Oh shut up!" Nonplussed, Silver turned to Pr'gn and said tongue-in-cheek,

"I suppose now you're wanting to go visit Ambassador Spock or something equally as _innovative_." He pressed the sarcasm on the last word as Pr'gn adjusted his position in his chair. Jarrad noted that he'd been squirming ever since he'd sat down. With mock exaggerated seriousness, the adopted Drakmärian replied,

"Hey, you know, that's not a bad id.."

"_PR'GN_!" Everyone chorused, interrupting him. As he squirmed yet again, the Engineer in him took over and he reported,

"Besides, that would be impossible since EPS is down to barest minimum. I've had to divert all of it to maintain cloak integrity. Our problem is that the cloak is currently at 90 efficiency and falling. When it drops to 35, in just under 2 hours, they will be able to maintain viable lock on us." Potter's turn was next,

"I have analyzed the sensor logs of the collision and determined that that was not a naturally occurring phenomenon. I believe it was a Terra-watt level pulse from a dynamic Tesla projector. I suspected this was the case when Pr'gn informed me that all the flux resistors in the computer cores had overloaded. On top of that, only the ceramic magnets in the Antimatter Pods are between us and a Main Core Breach. Our Secondary Core remains largely unaffected and it is at capacity. Due to safety considerations, it is the only reactor we have on-line. I theorize that the pulse came from directly below us and was aimed directly at Main Engineering. The fact that the pulse was not completely _collimated_, along with our being in low orbit with shields up, is why we are still alive." Jarrad then addressed his Chief Engineer,

"Pr'gn, can you see any possible way out of this mess?"

"With the computers off-line, all automated systems are down. We do have 1 alternative, but you're not going to like it, sir." Pr'gn replied apologetically while shifting again. Jarrad stroked his beard as he contemplated all the possible courses of action. Suddenly realizing which one Pr'gn was referring to, he blinked in surprise with a start, saying,

"You don't mean…?" He began. Pr'gn nodded. They both finished the thought simultaneously,

"_Manually_."

"Great, now I'm starting to think like him." Jarrad mumbled _sotto voce_. Larr was the only one who heard him and stopped pouting long enough to crack a small smile. As Pr'gn was shifting again, Larr suddenly slapped the table and called out his name. A startled Chief Engineer jumped in his seat, causing a brief look of agony to sweep across his face. He quickly recovered and replied, annoyed,

"What!" Seemingly oblivious to Pr'gn's predicament, the Intelligence Chief asked,

"You've been bragging to me all week about the new TOE pack that was just installed on the _STORMBRINGER_. That it was now so '_tricked out_' it is probably powerful enough to hold its own against a fully loaded Wayfarer. Could we use that pack as a stand in computer core?" Pr'gn shook his head slowly and responded to his Prince,

"No. The Tactical Optical Electro booster packs are designed to enhance existing systems only." He then brightened as he concluded, "But we _can_ use the pack to boost EPS efficiency. We may also be able to use it to boost the ODN network for the Wayfarer _ELRIC_ so we can use _its_ computer core! One small problem, a procedure like this would normally have to be done with all systems running cold. Since we don't have that luxury, I will have to install running parallel bypasses down each dedicated hardline. I estimate this will take at least a couple hours." Everyone glanced at Potter, hoping for a more accurate—and shorter—timetable.

"He's correct." The First Officer intoned, matter-of-factly. Jarrad took this as his cue to jump to his feet and order,

"This plan takes precedence over everything else for everybody except for Lieutenant Barco. Pr'gn, you have my standing approval and authority to use any resource necessary. Dismissed, _Let's do it_!"

* * *

Retiring Commodore Antoné Hersh was getting antsy. His family's Royal Yacht with its 3 Escort craft had just arrived in the system. Since the _CYGNUS_ had been completed the day before, Atras had suggested that she escort the royal flight in as a dry run. Dermon had agreed, but since he was so swamped with paperwork, he asked Hersh to be his proxy. There was also the fact that a good portion of the skeleton crew was Nortanian, including First Officer Atras. Because of this, Hersh thought he could establish a Command relationship easier. The visiting craft were holding position outside the one of the Durkin Net's Perimeter Relay Satellites. The Net was named after Doctor Ira Durkin, the 21st century Physicist who had designed the Distant Early Warning system for the Sol system. It was _SPACESTATION EPSILON DRAKMÄR's_ primary function to monitor telemetry from the Satellites. As they approached, Hersh commented on how beautiful the Yacht was. Atras responded good-naturedly, 

"Well sir, you've seen one Courser, you've seen them all." Hersh subconsciously adjusted his gold-lined black sash as he murmured,

"There's one in every crowd." Although he knew Atras was right. Mapping the Shadowlands by Wayfarer had proven a logistic nightmare, with the results disappointing at best. The Alliance Star Corps had then gone to Nortania for help as the system was adjacent to one of the densest sections of the phenomenon. Despite this fact, Nortania had never had any problems penetrating the Shadowlands. The Alliance had opted to refit the Nortanian Militia's Scout Vessel. The resulting internal transformation had resulted in the accommodations becoming somewhat claustrophobic. The Yacht was the same hull style, only 3/4 the size.

"Commodore, the Courser's Captain states that he is under direct orders not to navigate the system except under your Command." Announced the Drakmärian Lieutenant manning Tactical. Hersh nodded and answered,

"Understood, have Transporter 1 ready to beam me to the _TREENOR's_ Transport Module. Commander Atras, you have the _CYGNUS_." Hersh was puzzled by Atras' comment as the lift doors closed,

"Well, since he put it that way." Followed by what sounded like a derisive laugh. Hersh dismissed it with a shrug. Five minutes later, he was on board his family's personal transport. That was when he got the surprise of his life.

"Hi honey!" Hersh's wife Katerine rushed up to the platform and greeted him with a passionate embrace. Hersh responded in kind and grinned,

"Babe, you keep that up and you won't be the only babe in this family." He hadn't seen her since the _PATRIOT'S CRISIS_ incident four months ago. During that time, he'd been on Nortania taking care of Government business. Although he'd missed the invasion, they had been able to take a second honeymoon. Coyly she replied,

"How do you think I was able to come along on this flight?" Holding hands, they entered the hallway as he answered tentatively,

"Med School summer break?" Katerine coquettishly tossed her long, wavy hair and giggled,

"No honey, that's next month. I'll give you a clue: what does a woman have to do when she's only half ready?"

"You're on Maternity Leave?" His eyes bugged as he stared at her abdomen. Upon entering the Bridge, he said to the Nortanian captain,

"I'm going to have a baby!" Deadpan, the feline alien replied,

"Sir, I thought that was biologically impossible for human males." Katerine giggled again as Hersh sighed and shook his head. She then slid her arm around his waist, causing him to twitch and wince as she touched his injury.

"Honey, are you okay? What's wrong?"

"O'Camp and I were attacked by a spy yesterday and he managed to get a piece of my back. I'll be fine, my back will just be tender for a day or so." He informed her. Knowing her next logical question,

"O'Camp is fine. In fact, right now he's leading a rescue mission to save the _TANELORN_ from a potential trap." A year before the Hersh's wedding, Katerine and O'Camp had dated briefly. Their breakup had been amicable and the 2 had remained dear friends. Antoné and Brian had already established a close camaraderie through a number of life and death missions. So after their wedding he had become like family. Katerine shook her head and smiled,

"That's just about par for the course for him, some things never change."

"Sir, I am reading unusual energy patterns from the _CYGNUS_." Came the announcement from Ops. The Captain purred,

"Extrapolate please." All eyes focused on Ops as her claws did a rapid fire dance across the console. Her eyes suddenly narrowed as she said,

Message incoming from the _CYGNUS_. Your transport caused a broad-based systemic EPS surge which forced a plasma driver shutdown. They are currently adrift." Something about this didn't seem right to Hersh, he thought for a moment, then strode over to Ops. The officer manning the station made a gesture relinquishing it to him. He toyed with the panel for a minute, then returned it to the duty officer,

"ROGUE _White_ Squadron is on patrol and they have been diverted to tow the _CYGNUS_ back to the Spacedock. The Spacestation on Ch'gr will keep tabs on the _CYGNUS_ for the next few minutes until they show up. Dermon will not be happy, so I want to get this over with." 10 minutes later, the Royal Flight was docked at the Spacedock. The Hershes disembarked and Hersh braced himself as Dermon approached in an air of frustration,

"What happened aboard my ship? I heard there was an EPS malfunction." Hersh nodded and frowned,

"It seems that when they beamed me over, the transport blew out the primary plasma driver coil…or some such animal." Dermon's look went from concern to disbelief and he groaned in exasperation,

"That's _impossible_! She has a multi-phasic transitory microwave booster on her magneto-hydrodynamic grid!" Noting their blank stares he continued, "That means her EPS net can provide for the basic power needs for _3 Heavy Cruisers_, along with being able to maintain viable shields around them _as well_! So an EPS failure is _impossible_—as I said." Commodore Hersh's eyebrows knitted and he pursed his lips as he stroked his beard with a forefinger in thought. A moment later, his eyes narrowed and an eyebrow arched as he asked,

"Unless it's done on purpose! This application can be sabotaged, right?" Paling, Dermon slapped his combadge so hard that Katerine gasped, startled. The Spacedock's CO nearly shouted into the device on his chest,

"Ops, this is Dermon, put me in contact with ROGUE _White_ lead—_NOW_!

"Sir, they are hailing us as we speak." Came the reply from the Duty Officer manning Communications.

"I'll take it in the Dockmaster's office." He replied charging toward the room in question. Entering, he mumbled under his breath,

"If it's not one thing, it's another…why me?" The Hershes entered the office right as the comm screen winked on. Kat placed a reassuring hand on Zach's shoulder as he hung his head in response to the expression on the Pilot's face. That of perplexed concern. The Lieutenant winced at Dermon's reaction and reported,

"Sir, the…the _CYGNUS_ is not at these coordinates. There is only a gravimetric pulse indicative of a cold-start warp jump. Decay levels suggest it happened only moments ago. We are downloading telemetry from the Satellite now, but the pulse has scrambled some of it."

"I want that transmitted as soon as it's compiled, Spacedock out." Dermon then turned to the Dockmaster and said, "I want the _MERCY_ prepped for departure stat." The Drakmärian nodded his acknowledgment and rushed to comply. Hersh then spoke up,

"Hate to steal your thunder, but it's going to take at least 15 minutes to have her prepped. The _TREENOR_ and the 3 Paladins are ready to go and stand a much better chance. You take the yacht, I'll follow in the _MERCY_ once she's ready." From behind them came Vitro's voice and the 3 turned just in time to catch him leering at Katerine,

"Remember, with all the problems we've been having with the P'linza, especially after what was said by Atras, the _CYGNUS_ is probably in their hands. So consider it a hostile and expendable." Katerine handed her Datalink to Dermon saying,

"Here Zach, you're going to need this." The agitated Commodore slid the Nortanian version of a tricorder onto his wrist while frowning,

"I wish Pyl was here to help me figure this out. Some days it just doesn't pay to wake up!" The Hershes glanced quizzically at Vitro, who sighed sympathetically,

"Lieutenant Pyl Elle was a Bajoran/Human halfbreed ROGUE pilot who was murdered in the incident on Na'anac last month while saving his life. The 2 were quite close. She wouldn't have even been there if O'Camp hadn't recommended it and they are taking it out on themselves." Just then, Dermon was reaching the airlock access for the Courser, his pace stiff but determined. Katerine leaned out of the glass-enclosed office and called,

"Good luck Zach, do it to them before they do it to you. Take care and I'll see you when you get back." Dermon stopped short, smiled and waved before entering the yacht. Vitro turned to Hersh and said,

"Man, if I were you, I'd be getting suspicious right about now." He shared Vitro's laugh, turned to his wife and whispered,

"Thanks Kat, that's another one I owe you babe." In reply she smiled,

"Kiss me and we'll call it even, hon." Hersh was only too happy to comply.

* * *

"So it is true!" T'Kay exclaimed from the doorway of O'Camp's quarters. Suddenly feeling self-conscious under his Vulcan friend's scrutiny he said,

"Aye lassie 'tis true, this situation ye air in is me doin'." His deepening accent reflected his embarrassment at having to involve her. There was also the fact that he was suddenly struck by the resemblance between her and her late sister now that she was wearing the facial prosthetic. The sisters were only half Vulcan, the other half being Romulan/Human. Due to this mixed heritage, she tended to be somewhat passionate for her species. That was why she smiled when she said,

"No silly, you have shaved your beard off since I last saw you. Commander Scott has apprised me of the details of this mission. I understand full well that you went through the appropriate chain of command to obtain my services and, as always, I respect your authority. Dogh, on the other hand, is not nearly as enthusiastic or understanding as I." O'Camp stood, smiled warmly, and said softly in her native Vulcan,

"_T'hy'la, I'm glad you're here on this mission, your support and friendship is a source of strength for me_." She replied serenely in the same language,

"_Then I shall do my best to honor that Brian_." She switched back to standard and continued, "As to the purpose of my visit, I wish to inform you that we are 30 minutes from our destination."

"Very well, inform me once we have achieved orbit around ch'Havran, please."

Almost 20 minutes later, the comlink alerted O'Camp, nearly startling him out of his chair. It was T'Kay,

"Sir, we are 12 minutes from planetfall and we are reading another Warbird already in orbit. It has been identified as the _ARRICO_, an imperial courier."

"Discontinue cloak and drop out of warp, I'm on my way." O'Camp responded into the air as he left his old quarters. Scott glanced at him from the command chair as he entered the bridge and announced,

"The _ARRICO_ is hailing us and asking for you on a secure channel, sir." T'Kay was manning sensory, Sipal was at the helm, and the Drakmärian Ensign Frall-G was at the Weapons console. All of them had been prosthetically altered in preparation for the mission. The bridge scene brought back some unnerving memories to the former Intelligence Officer as he announced,

"I'll take it in the Political Officer's room, please." The face on the other end made his throat catch for an instant—the Senator on the Courier was his former Tal Shiar superior! On top of that, he had recently had Diplomatic dealings with the Senator as O'Camp! Quickly slipping into the Khariyyg persona, he prayed that the Senator either wouldn't remember the meeting, or wouldn't recognize him as the same man. Suppressing his nervousness Khariyyg transmitted,

"Greetings Senator and congratulations on your promotion, it has been a long time." The Senator nodded in response to the belated honor and said,

"Indeed it has, too long in fact. If you would please beam over, I would like to consult with you concerning our present situation, Major." That last word effectively changed the request into an order for O'Camp/Khariyyg. He felt his stomach knot as he found himself agreeing to the senator's terms.

"Yes sir, I shall see you soon." He terminated the link and mumbled to himself,

"Out of the frying pan and into the fire! Wonderful hotshot, what _next_? O'Camp, O'Camp, O'Camp why do you _insist _on doing this to yourself! Well Lord, I'm glad you know what I'm doing, because I don't and I need all the help I can get right about now!" He buried his head in his hands to meditate for a moment, sighed and left the room. When he informed Scott of his intentions, she nearly had a conniption. When she had finished, T'Kay voiced her objections as well.

Despite their objections, however valid, O'Camp/Khariyyg found himself aboard the _ARRICO_ 10 minutes later.

The first thing that the Senator did was to use his political power to promote Khariyyg to Colonel. Thinking fast, Colonel Khariyyg then informed the Senator that he intended to bring the damaged _TANELORN_ back to Alliance territory. Essentially this was to ensure the Feds and the Klingons their false sense of security. The Senator concurred the wisdom of the plan, but he warned the new Colonel to be inventive and make a show of the situation. The Senator also warned him that the Courier's Commander wouldn't be as enthusiastic as he was. She had her own political agenda which included the _TANELORN's_ destruction! Half an hour later, O'Camp/Khariyyg was back on the _KIITRAS_. He couldn't help but laugh when he saw the anticipatory stares he was greeted with when he entered the bridge. Scott glared at him for a moment then sighed,

"Okay Captain, I'll bite, what's the story on the _TANELORN_ situation and what are _our_ cards?" O'Camp licked his lips and replied,

"In all honesty, I've got good news _and_ bad…" He stopped short as he noticed T'Kay glance at her monitor, do a double take, and begin to manipulate her station's controls. Following O'Camp's gaze, all eyes focused on the Vulcan female. Frall finally broke the silence by asking,

"Is there a problem sir, or are you just trying to look busy?" His native irrepressible nature elicited a laugh from the humans. T'Kay's attention never wavered from her task as she answered,

"I am reading a sensor glitch. Since a diagnostic reads negative system anomalies, I believe it may be the location of the _TANELORN_."

* * *

Commander Larrgn-Z had done all he could do to assist in this part of the mission. For lack of nothing else better to do, he took a stroll down to the Observation Deck and just stared at the planet below. It was odd looking at a planet from polar orbit, so he programmed the Holographic Overlay with a real-time Equatorial view. He noted with mild surprise that if it weren't for his planet's reddish seas, ch'Havran would be its virtual mirror-image. 

"Fascinating." Larr turned his imposing frame to face Captain Potter, who was maintaining a respectful distance, "The planet, I mean. It does resemble your home and it is the home of your enemy." Larr shut off the display as he spoke,

"About a decade or so ago, I was on my first shore leave to home courtesy of the Destroyer _USS PARALLAX_. Even though I hated the Romulan people through a perceived cultural obligation, I had never met one until then. The day after my arrival, the Romulan Ambassador's First Assistant was assassinated. All evidence pointed to the Destroyer's First Officer and he was subsequently arrested. Due to the politics of the situation, I was named primary Counselor with the Romulan Embassy's Second as my investigative adviser. The first two days were a complete waste. The Romulan and I insisted on getting on each other's nerves in an effort to break the other first. We had no idea as to the method, so I used my Royal influence to expedite the autopsy. I also left a medical tricorder hooked up to the Lab's sensor array to record the proceedings. I only did it to rub it in the nose of the Romulan. I was still gloating when the Romulan began excitedly mumbling to himself as he compared the autopsy record to the Crime Scene file. He informed me that there were traces of a Cordrazine derivative in the candles. I told him that the substance was added to candles to make them more environmentally friendly. He responded by telling me that it might have been one ingredient in a two-stage poison, with the alcohol being the other half. He added that multi-stage poisons were common in his culture as they are hard to trace. I told him that that combination would deaden the nervous system but not cause a lethal collapse. I then jokingly commented that maybe it was a three-stage poison since they had had different entrées. With the third being the salt on the steak. Humoring me, he checked the food analysis and surprised us both by telling me that I was close. He found the third in the salad dressing. The sauce was a Romulan delicacy and had a trace additive that in itself was harmless. When mixed with that specific Cordrazine derivative, it created a metabolic neutralizer. Which implicated the Romulan Ambassador. Realizing we had succeeded in spite of ourselves, we spent a good 10 minutes sharing a laugh before we announced our findings. The _PARALLAX's_ Number One was exonerated and the Ambassador was executed a week later for her crimes." Potter's eyebrow arched as he asked,

"You said all that to make the point…"

"That planet and those people are not my, or anybody else's, enemy. My prejudice is based on what they have done to my people in the past. Which I will do everything in my power to prevent from happening again. Besides, one of the precepts of my people's beliefs is: _hate the deed, not the doer_." Larr answered. Potter was about to reply when standard lighting came on and the _TANELORN_ went to red alert simultaneously.

_Captain's Log; Stardate: 48998.3. The __TANELORN is ready for her mad dash home. That's the good news. The bad is that the only thing that seems to be left intact by our jury-rigging seems to be her name plate. Our return trip at warp 2 should take us a couple weeks to reach friendly territory. If Pr'gn and Conidi hadn't considered tinkering with the third Warp Engine and second Warp Core, we'd be making the trip at half impulse which could take years. My due recognition and admiration is extended to the crew for actions above and beyond the call of duty. I have heard it said that God watches over fools and children. Right now, I feel so foolish that I made such a childish mistake, I hope that qualifies us for a double blessing somewhere along the line. We could certainly use it right about now._

"Admiral, we have two Warbirds approaching us…that's odd!" Conidi announced from Ops. Jarrad sighed and said,

"Mr. Conidi, we are in orbit around the Romulan homeworld and we're not supposed to be. Since for the moment we are probably visible, it's no surprise that they'd come after us. Commander Silver, transfer appropriate power to the torpedo launcher." Conidi continued as he tapped more keys on his panel,

"Sir, one of the Warbirds' shield harmonics are fluctuating and it appears to have some sort of pattern. I'm buffering the pattern through the Universal Translator. I was right, it's a message in binary code which reads: PRO1824. I believe that that D'daridex may be the KIITRAS with Captain O'Camp in command."

"PRO1824 led you to ascertain that? Elucidate please." Came Potter's reply.

"In the _Federation Inter-lingua Revised Standard Text_, or FIRST Bible, it's a reference to a scripture. The book of Proverbs, chapter 18, verse 24 reads '_there is a friend that sticks closer than a brother_'. The conclusion is speculation on my part." Nodding, Jarrad glanced at his ship's Chaplain and acknowledged,

"Good work Commander. Silver, lock photons on the other vessel." T'Sear suddenly announced,

"Incoming transmission from the _KIITRAS_ on an open channel."

"On screen." Potter directed. Jarrad stood to make a show of confronting O'Camp for the benefit of all other parties monitoring the open channel. As soon as the screen winked on, he was immediately sorry he had stood. He suddenly remembered where he had met the young Ops officer before the _TANELORN_ assignment. He also now knew why the memory of that Romulan Major had been nagging him for so long. The reason for both was now staring him in the face in 3D Technicolor courtesy of the viewscreen. Jarrad barely recognized O'Camp. Now that he was clean shaven and had the black wig on, the difference was amazing. The '_Romulan headache_' prosthesis made the deception absolute. Maintaining a poker face, O'Camp/Khariyyg spoke,

"This is Colonel Khariyyg of the Tal Shiar, you are hereby ordered to surrender your vessel and crew unconditionally to my authority. You and your crew will be interrogated and the responsible parties will be dealt with accordingly. The rest will be delivered to a suitable Neutral Authority as the innocent should not have to pay for the crimes of their superiors. Furthermore, your vessel will be confiscated as a prize to our superiority." Jarrad's face was a mask of shock due to the unexpected revelation. This made it easy to make his expression one of barely contained hatred as he hissed through clenched teeth,

"Terms understood and agreed to."

As O'Camp/Khariyyg was delivering his monologue, T'Sear whispered to Potter,

"Captain Potter, the transmission is being _piggybacked_ by a Telemetry request for our _situation report_." Well aware that he was in the Main Viewer's visual field, Potter made a show of scratching his head to give her a discreet thumbs-up. A brief moment after Jarrad completed his response, the O'Camp/Khariyyg persona suddenly looked at something off screen. The image's expression went to one of surprise as he exclaimed,

"**_WHAT_**!" Another familiar voice off-screen from the _KIITRAS_ repeated as Silver announced the same simultaneously,

"Other Warbird is powering up forward disruptor banks!"

_**KIITRAS**_

"_TANELORN_ is in reduced power mode and her computers are down. Her phasers are off-line, torpedoes and shields are limited." T'Kay responded to Scott's request as to the _TANELORN's_ status. Scott then began barking orders,

"Order the _ARRICO_ to stand down or we will open fire. Mr. Frall, prepare disruptors and target key areas on that Warbird. Mr. Sipal, bring us about into standard attack posture against the _ARRICO_." Amid the chaos, T'Kay reported calmly,

"The _ARRICO_ has a weapons lock on us."

"**_OPEN FIRE_**!" O'Camp and Scott cried out simultaneously, as the blast struck the _KIITRAS_. Frustrated, Frall replied as a shower of sparks jumped from his station,

"Impossible, the _ARRICO_ has taken up position behind the _TANELORN_. Tactical is temporarily down as well"

"_TANELORN_ has fired five torpedoes, causing moderate damage, and is now jockeying for position." T'Kay monitored. O'Camp turned to Frall and nearly shouted,

"Once the Flagship is clear, commence saturation firing pattern!" The Ensign looked up from his panel, shook his head, and frowned apologetically,

"Sorry Captain, Tactical is still out." O'Camp looked toward the ceiling and mouthed the word '_help_' as Scott instinctively reached for her nonexistent combadge. She then punched the companel key on the command seat's armrest, cleared her throat and called out,

"Bridge to engineering. Dogh, we need Tactical—**_NOW_**!" The Klingon replied with a terse and gruff,

"Working." In an attempt to alleviate the tension, O'Camp quipped,

"Gee, someone sounds happy." To which Scott remarked dryly,

"What do you expect? He's trying to save a Romulan ship." T'Kay interrupted,

"Captain, I am detecting an unusual energy pattern that I am unfamiliar with on the _TANELORN_." O'Camp nimbly vaulted the railing around her station and glanced at her monitor. After a moment, he exclaimed in disbelief, the tone in his voice sending chills down Scott's back,

"**_NO WAY_**!"

_**TANELORN**_

The controlled chaos of the bridge was almost palpable. Jarrad watched in silent admiration at his new crew's efficiency during the crisis. He had already input the command authorization to bring the new model B Atomizer on-line. He silently observed for the next thirty seconds as the Alliance Star Corps' '_one-shot wonder_' was prepped for discharge. A kinetic field charge was built up in the warp core, then the Atomizer's relay linkage introduced the static bubble into a non-resolution transporter matrix buffer. As the subspace field began to intensify and cause the matrix to destabilize, the matrix was then cycled through a trilithium filter as a discharge maintenance factor. Silver announced from Tactical and Pr'gn concurred from Engineering that everything was a _go_. Silver attempted to attain target lock on Potter's order, and announced,

"The _ARRICO_ is too high and she's bringing disruptors to bear on the Bridge!" Kierns added,

"With the diversion of power to the Atomizer, Helm is now unresponsive. Unable to compensate using maneuvering thrusters!" All attention was suddenly arrested by Conidi as he groaned,

"Uh oh, look at the screen." There was a chorus of astonished gasps as the Bridge crew stared in fascination at the scene before them. The _KIITRAS_ was bearing down on the _ARRICO_ on what appeared to be a collision course!

_**KIITRAS**_

"Steady as she goes, Lieutenant. The trick to playing '_chicken_' is knowing when to flinch and we aren't going to." O'Camp addressed Sipal, his voice steady but tight. For a brief moment, The _ARRICO_ loomed larger than life in the viewer, filling it. It seemed like the instant before impact, all of the _ARRICO's_ dorsal thruster units fired, dropping the D'daridex into the _TANELORN's_ line of fire. O'Camp was almost able to count the number of thrusters fired—they were _that_ close! An instant later, they were clear of the other Warbird and Scott ordered hoarsely,

"Aft view." The screen shifted to a view of a pearlescent, luminescent beam lancing out from the Alliance's Flagship to envelop the Senatorial Courier. When the beam encountered the vessel's shields, they flared briefly. As the beam began to dissipate, its target quickly lost pattern integrity. Within a moment, both had vanished. O'Camp hung his head, shook it, and sighed,

"What a waste!" An awestruck Scott could only whisper,

"_THAT_ was the Atomizer?"

* * *

A brief conference between O'Camp and Jarrad had determined that the new superweapon must to be destroyed. It had been decided that the surgically altered team would beam down to handle the details. Upon materialization, O'Camp toyed briefly with his Romulan tricorder. When Scott saw his jaw muscles working, she approached and asked softly,

"Brian, what's the matter?" T'Kay appeared next to her and commented,

"Sir, you appear distressed." With his eyes focused on infinity, O'Camp extended his arm in a Southeasterly direction and said numbly,

"23 kilometers in that direction is where I used to live. That's also where your sister…" He shook off the melancholy and the group advanced toward the group of nearby buildings.

* * *

Miles above them, Midshipman Kierns was in the middle of some soul searching of her own. She had modified Larr's Observation Port overlay to suit her own needs and was memorizing every detail. She'd left the Privacy Door open, which is why she heard somebody pause in the hallway behind her. She turned, noticed Jarrad staring intently at the highlighted section of the overlay and asked,

"May I help you sir?" Startled, the Admiral looked at her and replied,

"Oh, sorry. No—is that the beam down site?" Running a finger over a slightly pointed ear tip, she answered with a pained smile,

"No sir, it's about 25 kilometers East-Southeast of it. That's where my mother's home was before her defection." Puzzled, Jarrad asked,

"But I thought you said your mother's family lives on ch'Rhihan?" The half-breed Helmsman nodded and continued,

"They do now. About a decade ago, they were forced to move after a close family friend was murdered by the Government. I guess I'm just jealous of the Away Team. Oh well, _what can you say, what can you do_?" She shrugged her shoulders and chuckled dryly. Jarrad grinned,

"I want to be down there almost as much as you do. The only difference is that I have the authority to get it done. But I know that I am needed here just as much as I need you here, so we both stay. Besides, when you're _riding silent thunder_, it's best to stay out of the way of those on your side."

"_Riding silent thunder_, sir?" Kierns asked, confused.

"Sorry again. I forgot you don't know about my heritage. I am a descendant of an ancient Terran warrior people known as the Cherokee. We were once a very proud and noble people, rich in culture. Part of that culture is the tale of a young Brave who was taking a test of manhood. When the test quickly became too difficult, he had to decide whether or not to accept the offered help. He accepted, knowing only a fool doesn't accept help when offered. Plus, a man who is too proud to let his friends be his friends is an even bigger fool and not worthy of their honor. Later, when asked how difficult it had been, he answered '_as difficult as riding silent thunder_'"

* * *

Courtesy of some Engineering insight on Scott's part, the four saboteurs had found the appropriate building. O'Camp/Khariyyg had then used the considerable influence of the Tal Shiar to get a tour of the Facility. Under the guise of examining key elements of hardware, Scott did a basic system diagnostic. This was done to determine the best and easiest method of destruction. Everything was going as planned until Scott wanted to get a closer look at the Superconductor's Core Element. Frall was holding the ladder steady for her as she did so. The Core was a Ceramic Magnet '_lens_' with a diameter of one meter and length of 3.5 meters. This Cylinder was wrapped by 50 kilometers of 5 gauge tritanium alloy. As she adjusted her grip to begin her descent, she lost her footing and fell. She accidentally struck Frall on the head as he caught her. This jarred the colored lens out of his left eye, exposing his true heritage! Before O'Camp/Khariyyg could react, Frall was shot in the arm!

The four non-Romulans raced to the entrance, with O'Camp and Scott laying down cover fire. Reaching the door, O'Camp asked,

"How do we destroy that thing?" Scott indicated a section of the weapon 1/4 way up from the bottom,

"The Regulator Element Maintenance Control Panel, fry that and the whole thing goes." O'Camp found his target and his heart sank—it was 30 meters away and 15 centimeters square! Now he knew why marines respectfully called it a '_Hail Mary_' shot. Every prayer he could think of flashed through his mind as he carefully called the shot. It hit. He then bolted for the door as the first of the explosions rocked the structure. O'Camp was halfway to the beam out site when a Centurion stumbled out of the building, weapon drawn. The next explosion flattened the Centurion and caused him to fire his disruptor. The shot hit O'Camp in the back! He went down hard and was still, the back of his uniform charred. The others trotted to his position as T'Kay called for beam out.

* * *

It took another hour, but the _KIITRAS_ finally got underway with the _TANELORN_ in tow. By matching shield harmonics and then extending them around each other, they were able to create a _null subspace field_ between the two vessels. This was necessary in order to establish a viable tractor beam lock for the return trip. The lock had to maintain absolute integrity during the long trip at warp speeds and the _null space_ was the only conducive environment. With a Power Transfer Beam in effect, the _KIITRAS_ was able to augment the _TANELORN's_ available power. Due to this, they were able to increase their velocity to warp 5. At this rate, it was estimated that they would be home in four days, barring any more surprises.

* * *

_Station Log; Stardate: 48998.9, High Admiral Joseph Vitro recording. I am once again in command of the Spacedock, albeit temporarily. The facility's long-range sensors have tracked the __CYGNUS Warp Core resonance trace to the Shadowlands. Due to this, I have concurred that it was best for Commodore Dermon to lead the pursuit. In spite of his mental state and personal involvement, he is still the most experienced with Shadowland penetration that we have. Due to sensor and communications difficulties generated by the phenomenon, the __MERCY is holding position just inside the local __event horizon. There is still no news of the condition of the __TANELORN's mission. Knowing the track record of the officers involved, this is good news for the mission but bad news for the sanity of the Medical and Engineering staffs. I just hope that Zach is okay, having to deal with an unfamiliar ship and crew.

* * *

_

Commodore Zach Dermon woke with a start to unfamiliar surroundings. He shook himself fully awake and called up the lights. Once his eyes became adjusted he remembered where he was once he recognized the Nortanian décor. Dermon was startled once again when the door chime sounded the second time.

"Come on in." He groaned, easing himself into a sitting position as the Courser's Medic entered the Yacht's Main Suite. Moments later, the Medic had completed his task and Dermon made a beeline for the _TREENOR's_ Bridge. Once there, he asked the Captain,

"So what's our mission status?" The catlike alien purred,

"You wanted to be informed the minute we had something. Renay, main viewer if you please." Perhaps it was his medication, or the fact that the screen was calibrated for the Nortanian's unique eyesight. Whichever it was, when the screen '_flowed_' into its activation sequence, Dermon found himself fighting off a wave of nausea.

"As you can see sir, we are picking up magnetic trace fall off pulses in this general area." The officer at Ops pointed out a highlighted section of the screen and continued, "That '_shadow-cloud_' is about 1000 km in diameter. Once we reach its perimeter, we will be able to ascertain a more accurate location of the _CYGNUS_." Dermon frowned and replied, annoyed,

"How can you be so sure that that is my ship? That could be fallout from a recent plasma storm yielding a false reading. It could also be the resonances from a tachyon eddy passing through a neutrino cloud."

"Sir, with all due respect, you're an Engineer and not a Scientist. I say that only because the frequency and amplitude variations between man-made and natural phenomena are quite significant. There is also the fact that, according to policy, I did an extensive scan of the _CYGNUS_ when we were first hailed. Compensating our present scans for the residual plasma cloud distortion, the two scans are an exact match—that's how I can be so sure." With a sigh of frustration, Dermon relented. A few tense seconds of uncomfortable silence pervaded the Command Center. It was broken by Captain Nelson, who turned in his command/pilot's chair and spoke to Dermon,

"The _MERCY_ will be at our position in 30 minutes. If you like, you may oversee the combat systems diagnostic in progress down in Engineering."

Dermon was almost to engineering when he passed a door marked **STINGER BAY ACCESS**. His curiosity got the better of him and he entered the Hangar. The six one-man Fighter craft gleamed in the small bay's track lighting. The craft loosely resembled the _ANT_ class Work Pod, slightly flattened and shortened. Where the Work Pod had three Impulse engines, the STINGERs employed but one. This deficiency was compensated for by four conformed struts that branched out from the main engine that were tipped with fore-aft thrusters. The positioning of the struts made a large 'X' on the back of the craft. On either side of the egg-shaped cockpit were twin plasma micro-rocket launchers. Extending out from those were atmospheric horizontal stabilizers. Dermon then got down on all fours and glanced underneath the compact Fighter. There he found a double impulse fusion reactor. Confused as to why the Main Engine was only connected to one driver coil, he made his way to the front of the craft. There he discovered the other driver coil was connected to a fixed-mount type 9 phaser cannon. The Engineer glanced up from his scrutiny and got startled by the close proximity of a Nortanian officer. She was wearing a flight suit and was standing on the other side of the STINGER staring intently at him. He stood as the alien spoke,

"Excuse me sir, may I help you?" Dermon stepped back from her fighter as she opened the cockpit. He then replied,

"I'm a ROGUE Pilot and I was curious about these STINGERs, so I thought I'd take a look." The Nortanian busied herself with flight prepping her craft. Five others entered the Bay and followed suit as she chuckled her response,

"Lieutenant Commander Daynel Hardison at your service, Commodore. I happen to be this Courser's Flight Team Leader. In all honesty, I'm just a little jealous of you, sir. These fighters are simply a gun with an engine attached, they have no creature comforts whatsoever. They don't even have defensive shields—only navigational. Our computer and communication is limited to our Datalink. These STINGERs are quick and powerful, but each one is only as good as its Pilot, and it doesn't give a nanometer. Slick but raw. Not nearly as much fun as those ROGUEs must be, but then the grass is always greener…" Hardison was interrupted by a two-tone grinding whistle from Dermon's Datalink. Dermon stared at the unit for a second, finger poised over it. Giggling, Hardison reached over and actuated the unit's comlink toggle. Dermon grimaced a weak smile at his fellow Pilot who winked back as he addressed the Datalink,

"Dermon here." Captain Nelson's voice returned,

"The _MERCY_ has just rendezvoused with us. We are now getting underway to intercept the _CYGNUS_. I would appreciate your presence on the Bridge during the assault."

* * *

Hersh sat in the _MERCY's_ Command Chair watching as the current chapter of his career unfolded on the Tactical display. The Nortanian Escort craft proceeded at full impulse while the _TREENOR_ launched her STINGER contingent. As the _MERCY_ led the _TREENOR_ in at 1/3 impulse, Hersh raised his voice and ordered,

"Launch ROGUE flight and keep Wayfarer on standby. _Battlestations! Red Alert!_" From Ops came the announcement,

"Sir, the _CYGNUS_ is leaving the cloud. She is presently at _Battlestations_ as well!" An instant later, the _CYGNUS_ opened fire.

The lead Paladin took the brunt of the first volley. This caused heavy damage to its port 'wing' , effectively crippling it. The second volley completely disabled the lead ROGUE, cutting it in half. Part of that blast also grazed one of the STINGERs, disintegrating it!

"**_NO_**!" Hersh shouted as he leaped out of his seat in response to the sudden carnage. Giving his temper a few moments to cool off, he took a deep calming breath. He then directed that the _MERCY_ between the _CYGNUS_ and the _TREENOR_. During the maneuver, the slightly depleted assault force regrouped.

* * *

On board the _TREENOR_, Dermon's mind was racing. He was trying to figure out how the _CYGNUS_' firepower rating had been more than doubled. He was at the Science Station on the rear wall of the Bridge. In his frustration, he pounded his fist against the panel and hung his head. Out of the corner of his eye, he noticed the display change. Whatever he'd hit in his outburst had given him his answer!

"Have them concentrate their efforts on the _CYGNUS_' underside, especially the forward area. I am going to beam over and disable her." Over the active combat comlink came Hersh's reply,

"You're going to _what_? Commodore, if you go over there, it will be with at least myself escorting you!" Dermon instead beamed over to the _MERCY_ and spelled out the Tactical situation for Hersh,

"Remember that I told you my ship's MHD booster? Somebody over there figured out how to repolarize the operating frequency for the shields and phasers. This was sufficient for them to effect a transverse systemic hand off. In layman's terms, they rerouted the dorsal shield power to the phasers, while doing the reverse for the ventral systems." Hersh cut in at this,

"Which would explain why we are able to keep them neutralized by staying below them. From what I understand of this, I think our best bet would be to take the Wayfarer _ADIRONDACK_ and use her to do a point-blank beam in. I'll have the Paladin _DRESCA Hawk_ punch a hole through the impulse exhaust window to help us." Dermon replied smiling,

"That won't be necessary, I have a few Engineering tricks up my sleeve that will be much more effective."

"Why am I not surprised?" Hersh chuckled as he covered his face with a hand. Dermon glanced at the Datalink's chronometer and said,

"We have to hurry. Their first assault overloaded the _CYGNUS_' phaser emitters. I only had the old Lithium-Copper type installed and their heat sinks aren't designed for that kind of power. They should be finished with their repairs…!" A sudden impact threw both Flag Officers to the floor, interrupting Dermon. The two Commodores took this as their cue to make a hasty beeline for the _ADIRONDACK_. Minutes later, true to his word, Zach had them aboard the _CYGNUS_. At Hersh's recommendation, they had beamed to the Battle Bridge. Hersh was armed with a phaser rifle and Dermon with a Nortanian blaster. While Hersh stood guard, Dermon furiously input commands into the Ops panel. His fingers literally doing what appeared to be a wild dance over the unit. A full minute later, there was an electronic grind and Dermon groaned nearly simultaneously. As Hersh turned to ask what the problem was, he saw a sparkling spill of sound and light behind the engineer and shouted,

"_Zach! Look out! **Behind you**!_" In one sweeping motion, Dermon drew his blaster, aimed and fired the instant the Nortanian materialized. There was the acrid stench of singed fur as his shot hit the alien's chest. The Nortanian was unconscious before he hit the floor. Hersh brought his rifle to bear on the general area the first had materialized, anticipating reinforcements. Dermon turned his head to say _thanks_ and stopped short. He stared past Hersh with his mouth hanging open and his eyes bugging out. Almost without thinking, Hersh rolled backwards from his crouching position to recline on his back. He looked '_upwards_' in time to see a Drakmärian firing on his former position. Hersh responded in kind, producing far better results. Dermon shook his head and muttered,

"We have to get to the Saucer Section's Engineering Substation so I can finish what I was doing." Hersh gestured toward the door at the Bridge's aft section. For the next several minutes, the two Flag Officers engaged in a running firefight to get to their destination. Once there, Dermon completed his task and announced,

"Done. Now, in 1 minute we will…" He was interrupted by a voice from the Station's Office,

"Be dead, _sir_." The sarcasm literally dripped from the last word as Atras raised his Drakmärian phaser and leveled it at Dermon's head. Hersh snapped his rifle up and knocked the weapon out of the Nortanian's hand. Atras reacted by using Hersh's favorite tactic: the exotic Nortanian style fake-out. Both of Hersh's hands stung as the rifle was slammed from them. The momentum from the blow spun Hersh halfway around. Atras took advantage of this by following up with a snap kick to the back. Unfortunately, the kick landed on the same place the Adopted Prince had been stabbed three days ago. The sudden blinding pain forced his legs to go numb, sending him to his knees. Atras then drew his fist-blade just as Hersh's knees were hitting the floor. This gave Dermon a clear field of fire and he took the shot. The heavy stun blast slammed the Lieutenant Commander into the substation's Master Situation Monitor. On impact, the Panel exploded into a shower of sparks. This explosion sent the alien to the ground to land on his knife. Gasping for breath and frustrated to tears, Dermon screamed,

"**_THAT'S FOR THE CYGNUS, YOU TRAITOR_**!" Wincing apologetically, Hersh looked at his comrade and whispered,

" '_Thank you_' doesn't even begin to cover it, man. Which is very small consolation." He then tapped his combadge, "Hersh to _MERCY_, _CYGNUS_ secure, messy but secure."

* * *

_Captain's Log; Stardate: 48999.6. The __TANELORN is now just one day away from the __SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN_ courtesy of the _KIITRAS. The Engineering teams have concluded their work. I am eagerly awaiting their report at the staff meeting at 0930 hours. In the meantime, O'Camp has recovered from surgery and regained consciousness while I was asleep. During my brief contact with the Spacedock last night, I authorized the __DRAKMÄR to return Katerine Hersh to Nortania at her request. It bothers me that there has been no word from the __MERCY in over 12 hours. However, I know that both Hersh and Dermon are seasoned officers with a capable ship and crew and should fare no worse than we. Still, I will use Admiral's prerogative and keep my fingers crossed._

O'Camp was lying on his stomach sleeping when Jarrad entered the private room. Jarrad pulled up a chair and just stared at his friend for several minutes. He then collected his thoughts and spoke,

"Well, now I know where we met before and why you could never tell me. I guess all of us have our little mysteries—like why Pr'gn couldn't tell me how you survived getting shot in the back with a disruptor. His words exactly were: '_chalk it up to divine intervention and please leave it there sir_'. I guess that will have to do. I mean, it's not like you have a portable shield generator strapped to your waist or something." Jarrad chuckled softly, sighed and continued,

"Speaking of mysteries, you probably already know part of the story of how I got to be where I am. Last month, you cryptically alluded to it on Na'anac. So I will fill in the blanks.

Right after I left the _EXCELSIOR_, my shuttle was diverted to Starfleet HQ. I figured I was to be debriefed first. This thought caused a wave of relief as I was sure I could make somebody hear my side of the story. If so, I was positive they would realize I was just keeping with my training. When finding myself in a desperate and unusual situation, I adapted and overcame by improvising. Hopefully, someone would take pity and I would get out with my skin intact. I mentioned this to my escort and he replied that it was up to my debriefer. When he mentioned her name, I nearly lost all hope. Even back when she was a Commodore, Alynna Nechayev had garnered herself quite a reputation for being a no-nonsense hard case…to say the least. It had only been 7 hours since I'd been arrested. On top of that, I was sure that the good Commodore would take a dim view of the fact that 2 1/2 weeks before I had killed my CO. I was hoping like crazy that my lack of rank would work in my favor. I was expecting the room to be one with a chair for me and her interviewing me for hours on end with a guard and recorder present. I was totally amazed and unprepared for what was on the other side of the door. Facing me from across a Conference Table was more brass than in the Lunärian Museum of Antiquity. Needless to say, I was so impressed I forgot why I was there for a moment. Having been a Cadet in the Academy less than a month before, I immediately recognized all the flag officers present except one. I had never seen the gentleman seated next to Commodore Nechayev, plus his insignia was unfamiliar as well. I didn't even have time to identify myself before she started in on me,

"Well Mr. Jarrad, I do hope you are proud of yourself. Your efforts managed to single handedly wreak havoc on Starfleet Security's interests in this area." Managing to find my voice I protested,

"Sir! This Cadet believed he had no other option what with the circumstances…" She then interrupted me in that annoyingly smug manner of hers,

"Completely irrelevant Mr. Jarrad, there are always options to any contingency that is carefully considered. There are also consequences for choosing inappropriate courses—did you think of that when you decided to play hero?" By then I had gotten so frustrated that, without thinking, I reacted in anger,

"Yes sir, this Cadet did. Even though they weren't very pleasant. This Cadet didn't have the luxury of addressing the situation to a superior for orders. So this Cadet made his own plan and executed it…obviously at the expense of this Cadet's career!" Nechayev didn't even blink when she replied,

"That is true of your former career Mr. Jarrad, but you may find your future considerably more challenging. The gentleman seated next to me is Vice Fleet Admiral MacPenney. He has informed me that increasing tensions along the Neutral Zone have led to certain unpleasant incidents along our border. In order to protect our interests in that area, we have stationed a permanent facility at our primary protectorate in the Epsilon Drakmär system. Due to the tenuousness of the situation, we have found it necessary to staff this facility with individuals of unique character. These individuals have all displayed brazen initiative in the face of unusual odds—just as you have. Admiral MacPenney has also informed us that the reigning Monarch has requested someone with energy to inspire coordination between our interests and the natives'. That individual, Mr. Jarrad, is you. Finally, in response to the events that resulted in you appearing before this Committee." When she said that, I was sure she was going to follow up with a _punch line_ to her last statement. Something along the lines that I was going to be '_Chief Aide to the Head of Sanitation on some backwater planet with a _tech level_ somewhere in the Dark Ages_', "If word ever got out about your little misadventure, it would seriously undermine public confidence in this institution. Therefore, I am waiving official sanctions pending the outcome of your probation. This will consist of your full cooperation with the Royal Drakmärian Government as your probation has been rendered to their authority. You will be apprised of the conditions of your probation at a briefing tomorrow morning at Starfleet Headquarters. You will be escorted by Admiral MacPenney to meet with your new superior, Fleet Admiral Fitzpatrick. That is all. Dismissed." I did. The rest, as they say, is history." O'Camp moaned softly, as if in response and Jarrad left for his meeting.

The Grand Fleet admiral, or '_Grand Poobah_' as he liked to refer to his position, sat at the head of the Conference Table. He propped his feet up on it and silently watched the stars go by, his mood contemplative. It had been over a decade, yet recent events had brought an unnerving freshness to the memories.

15 minutes later, the Senior Staff began to arrive. Larrgn-Z entered first, spun his chair around and straddled it. Jarrad called the meeting to order by addressing Pr'gn,

"I know that we were _cold cocked_ by the Atomizer discharge; aside from that, where do we stand? Can she be salvaged?" Pr'gn gave his Commanding Officer a condescending smile and spoke,

"Believe it or not, except for moderate radiation damage–including loss of life support–on the decks above and below the Atomizer, we're in surprisingly good shape. In fact, if we didn't need Warp Power, we could kill the Power Transfer right now. For some reason, the new Atomizer-Engineering setup we have doesn't debilitate ship's systems nearly as bad as the old one. Before we had basically a '_one-shot wonder_', followed by a complete across-the-board systemic refit. What we have now is, by my calculations, pretty much a _three-shot_ deal, followed by an elective minor overhaul. Our EPS and MHD primaries are going to require a simple main junction swap out. Plus the warp-core plasma initiators are going to have to be retuned and aligned manually."

"Mr. Potter?" Jarrad prompted as the Engineer concluded. The Science Officer keyed a toggle on his PADD and spoke in the tone of a teacher addressing a class. This always gave Jarrad, a former student, a sense of déjà vu,

"All three Computer Cores are complete losses and must be totally replaced. The bad news is that all the repairs necessary must be performed in Spacedock. The good news is that, once docked, all repairs can be completed in 39 hours and 24 minutes. This is due to the fact that there is no structural damage, only systemic." Jarrad continued the meeting by giving the floor to T'Sear,

"Neither the Spacedock nor I have been able to raise the _MERCY_. Our communications are limited to the use of our directional antenna only, so we don't even know if we are 1° off from their location. Our other problem is that the _KIITRAS_' comm system doesn't contain a plasma frequency discriminator. This means that that the Shadowlands are generating enough ionized resonance to effectively jam their communications." This bit of news elicited a chuckle out of a frustrated Admiral,

"You mean our '_knight in shining armor_' has a weakness we don't?" Jarrad shook his head in bemused amazement and continued, "When we enter the system tomorrow night, we will be towed in by the _ROGUE_ Command/Escort fight. In order for the _KIITRAS_ to effectively recloak, we will have to disengage our setup here. We will then exit the Shadowlands under impulse power, extending our ETA by 10 1/2 hours. Dismissed everyone."

* * *

Dermon sat on the _CYGNUS_' ready room chair in a slouch. His ship, his pride and joy, his career goal and dream, his baby and first love, was a shambles. The computer diagnostic alone, what there was of it, was messier than a Klingon food fight. His stomach churned as the computer's sterile version of the damage Atras and company had done scrolled silently by. Most of the algorithm protocol had been overwritten and, on top of that, every major subsystem had been rerouted. While tearing everything apart, they had not only ignored safety considerations, they had also overloaded most of the fail-safes. That had resulted in the blowout of numerous backups and had taken entire systems off-line. Because of this, Dermon's teams had had to jury-rig several major systems—like Saucer Section life support and artificial gravity—leaving the _CYGNUS_ an Engineering nightmare. All to get around the autonomic command priority sequences that protected the recognition cipher access security files. Just to steal her. Two hours ago, Dermon had gotten such a headache from the mess on his display that he'd gone down to Engineering, just to check on the Damage Control Team's progress. Halfway there, after witnessing the reality of the damage, he had readily returned to his office. One couldn't go 20 meters without witnessing the fruits of the hijackers' labor strewn about a corridor. With Damage Control Parties from all the ships working continuous shifts, the _CYGNUS_ could be underway in two days. He sighed and groaned as he slapped his terminal off in frustration. He then buried his head in his hands and drifted into a restless sleep.

Hersh sat in the _MERCY's_ ready room, coordinating the damage control efforts going on aboard the _CYGNUS_. He had been without sleep for 13 hours and the task at hand required his attention for at least another 5 hours. Having been raised on Nortania, certain enzymes in the food increased his constitution to the point where he could easily endure unusual physical demands. The only problem was that he'd still been born human and his mental faculties weren't as enthusiastic about those demands. The net result was that, although he was wide awake, he was beginning to get moody. At this rate, he wasn't going to make his retirement two days from now. It wasn't that he did not enjoy being an officer, but he had a duty to his home government. Being that he was a part of that government which was an active part of the Alliance, the _Council of Elders_ had granted him a limited retirement rather than accept his resignation. This simply meant that when his duties were concluded, the Star Corps could draft him with a single grade loss. Otherwise, he would have had to reenlist at the bottom. Antoné tried to contact Zach to no avail. Figuring the Engineer to be catching up on some much needed rest, Hersh ordered two members of the Nortanian Royal Guard stationed in front of Dermon's office. This with the admonition that the Nortanian government would take it personally were Zach to be disturbed. Half an hour later, Telnah Ses, the _MERCY's_ temporary Chief Engineer entered his office. He had placed in charge of the Damage Control Teams and it showed on his uniform. Telnah was the Director of the Spacedock's Engineering Teams and had volunteered for the mission since the _MERCY's_ crew was on a much-needed shore leave. The Trill lieutenant informed Hersh that the _CYGNUS_ could be underway on full impulse in just over 7 hours. From there, it would take another 4 hours to get basic Warp Power. Ses then mentioned that if they wanted to limp it, they could halve the time limits. Despite the risks, Hersh authorized the quicker plan.

* * *

_Captain's Log; Stardate: 49000.0. It has been a week since this new __TANELORN left home. All in all, it was a successful mission. Our goal may not have been attained, but any mission where the loss of life is limited is successful. One thing I learned at the Academy; the needs of the many may outweigh the needs of the few, but even the loss of one life isn't worth it. In my opinion, this ship has earned her name. She took on an unusual mission against incredible odds and brought them back alive. Both the __TANELORN and I are lucky to have been blessed with such a fine crew. We have disengaged from the __KIITRAS and did not enter the system until I relieved clearance from O'Camp in Ops._

Home.

The _SPACEDOCK CHARLES DARWIN_.

There she was, a shining pillar of civilization, nearly a mile tall. She was just floating there in space, orbiting T'Bias, Drakmär IV's class-M moon. She seemed to be waiting there with open arms. Jarrad's shoulders slumped with relief when they were close enough to the Spacedock for him to see her through his ready room window.

Through O'Camp, Jarrad understood that Vitro had started a rumor that had already become part of Alliance history. The rumor had already experienced several changes each typically wilder than the one before. The version Jarrad had heard was something along these lines: The _TANELORN_ had gone to the Romulan border to pick up the new Ambassador. Once there, she had been hijacked by the Tal Shiar and towed to the Romulan homeworld. During interrogation, Jarrad and several junior officers managed to escape and rescue the remainder of the crew. After paralyzing the Romulan defense network to make good their escape, they spent the next several days playing _cat and mouse_ with a fleet of Warbirds. A situation made more desperate since the Romulan tampering had disabled their weapons and shields and limited their warp power to 30 seconds per use. With a sigh, the Grand Fleet Admiral rolled his eyes and laughed. _The stuff legends were made of_. With these rumors, the new _TANELORN_ was now an official part of the Alliance, as she was now a legend in her own light. The intercom beeped, followed by Potter's request,

"Admiral to the Bridge." Jarrad strode briskly to his place in front of the Command Chair. As he did, T'Sear announced,

"_Gold_ Flight Team Leader, a Lieutenant Commander Salvador, is hailing us."

"On screen." Jarrad requested, trying to remember why that name sounded so familiar. Once the Hispanic Pilot's features appeared on the main viewer, he instantly remembered. He had awarded the young man with a _Distinguished Flying Cross_ for _actions above and beyond the call of duty_ following the events on Na'anac last month. Only difference was, back then he'd been the wingman for the flight team leader of the ROGUE's mother ships' flagship, the Frigate _FALCON_. The new Commander announced,

"_Gold_ Escort Flight standing by to relieve _TANELORN_ of primary navigation, sir."

"_TANELORN_ stands relieved. Authorization, _Jarrad alpha 1_." Came the customary time-honored formality.

"_Gentlemen, enjoy the ride, it's the best in town_." Was the appropriate response and Salvador closed the channel. An instant later, five blue beams reached forth from the Corvettes to attach to the starship.

* * *

It had been 9 hours since the return of the _TANELORN_ and still no sign of the _MERCY_. Earlier that morning, Admiral F. Prescott Westlake had beamed up from the _FLEET DEVELOPMENT CENTER_'s Embassy to lend a hand. O'Camp was in Command of the Spacedock in Dermon's absence and they needed someone to man Operations. Mainframe was busy assisting Captain McCollin on the repairs to the _TANELORN_ as Pr'gn had been had been given Command of the Destroyer _CHEROKEE_ to find the missing ships. Because of this, Captain O'Camp had asked the middle-aged Ambassador for help. Since he had been the Deputy Director of Starfleet HQ Operations, Westlake made no bones about the fact that he'd probably forgotten more about it than O'Camp had ever known. After a good night's sleep for everyone, O'Camp had called a senior staff meeting in his office. The meeting wasn't really necessary as each shift had a formal conference scheduled at the end anyhow. The Spacedock's XO called it earlier only because he took a perverse sort of pleasure at having superior officers at his beck and call.

During the meeting, Potter announced that he had been offered tenure at the _Vulcan Science Academy_. He then shocked everyone by stating that he had accepted and would be tendering his resignation by the end of the week. Another shock came from Scott, who informed all present that the _GALLOWAY_ had been reassigned to a new patrol area. The Federation Diplomatic Corp wanted Captain Tanara's expertise in maintaining the new treaty with the Tholian Assembly. This tour could last anywhere from 6 months to two years. Making eye contact with Jarrad, she apologized to everybody. She informed all present that she wanted to maintain the friendships, but her closer relationships would have to be put on hold. O'Camp then mentioned that the sensor/communication logs confirmed that a former associate of theirs had been killed by the Atomizer discharge. Telemetry from the logs indicated that the traitor T'Vella had been the _ARRICO's_ Commander. He couldn't be sure, because of the interference created by the Polar Field, but it appeared that a Life Pod had jettisoned prior to Atomizer discharge. It appeared to come from the Senatorial Yacht attached to the _ARRICO_, as such, it may have been the Senator. When O'Camp said this, Jarrad shot Scott a furtive glance without thinking. Scott noticed and demanded to know why. Jarrad revealed to her that O'Camp had informed him of the Senator's identity last night. The Senator was someone that she had once had a relationship with. The relationship that had ended when she discovered that it was a cover for his and his wife's treason, only too late. Gwenn had then mouthed the name as Jarrad and O'Camp spoke it _Tyrek_.

As the officers were leaving the conference room, a Drakmärian female announced from Tactical,

"Long-range scanners are picking up an EXCELSIOR-class Battleship approaching border from Federation territory. Telemetry indicates it to be the _ARK ROYAL_."

"We're receiving Telemetry already?" O'Camp glanced quizzically at Westlake, who merely raised his eyebrows and shrugged. The officer supervising the Cadet announced,

"The Telemetry signal is being used as a carrier for an encoded message, sir." O'Camp merely waggled a forefinger at Westlake, who nodded. The senior officers then proceeded to leave Ops to conclude their meeting by having breakfast together. O'Camp was the first to the turbolift and was halfway inside when Westlake gasped. The Spacedock's CO stopped short so suddenly that he was nearly bowled over by Jarrad. Silence pervaded Ops and all activity stopped as everyone's attention was suddenly focused on the Ambassador. Westlake composed himself as he slowly glanced up form his station. Seconds felt like minutes as he finally made eye contact with O'Camp. His face was a mask of efficiency, but his voice betrayed a trace of surprise and disbelief as he finally spoke,

"It's a declaration of war!"

NOTES: I actually got the title from a game I used to play a long time ago. I thought it was a great title so I came up with a concept and wrote from there. I had only a general sense of where I wanted to go and I only planned to fill in the blanks with minor characters as needed. we already had all the secondary characters but had never used them so I planned to use this as a vehicle to do so. With Zach's illness taking its toll, there were a number of changes in the club and this story reflects some of them. The final section above was put in place as a lead-in for the next story. It was originally intended as a standalone combat-based story, but I wanted some way to have the events happen without having to complicate things. At this point, Zach knew he was going to die soon and wanted me to write a story where he died in combat. He specifically asked me to ensure the destruction of the _CYGNUS _in a 'cool' way where it was the pivotal role. I was going to change it from a _trilogy_ to a _4-part thrillogy_ but the publication date was changed and I wound up working on another project. I also took the liberty of separating the plots for SWAN SONG and TRAIL OF TEARS from this story so they could be read independently. There are some minor inconsistencies since I reedited TRAIL OF TEARS. I tried to edit LADY IN DISTRESS to match but it quickly became overwhelming with all the extra plot elements. SWAN SONG was pretty much left as-is.


End file.
